


The Northern Crown

by Athenias



Series: Equinox [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura and Lance are Siblings, Altean Lance (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Homesick Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), I love my dead gay kids, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith and Lance have PTSD, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, M/M, Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), its bad, klance, season three spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2018-12-12 12:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 61,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athenias/pseuds/Athenias
Summary: Lance and Keith were just two stupid commanders in love. Not just with each other- Keith loved the Altean soldiers like his own Galran unit, admired Lance's father and red paladin King Alfor, and Lance loved his family and blue paladin Blaytz. But just because they're stubborn idiots does not mean that the Galra turning on Altea was something they deserved, nor did Lance think himself deserving of Keith's decision to side with Altea in the battle.Even now, ten thousand years past, Lance and Keith feel undeserving of the fight they have to fight in the shoes of the blue and red paladins they admired so dearly in the past.





	1. Scorpius

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction will be written with flashbacks on some chapters showing key points in Lance and Keith's relationship, and every other the present.
> 
> If you wanna yell about the fic/ at me for doing anything I did on Tumblr (or anything related to it, really), put either 'The Northern Crown Klance' or 'TNC Fic' in the tags so I can find it!

Lance was raised around the Lions that formed Voltron. He met the paladins before he was even capable of knowing what they were, and was lucky enough to be the son of their creator and red paladin. Allura had chastised him for his interest in them when the two were younger. But no doubt she hadn’t taken the way his eyes lit up every time he saw the magnificent beasts with a grain of salt. Maybe that’s why their father Alfor had given him the chance to train the new uprising of Altean soldiers, and Allura was given the crown to Altea.

 

But what he hadn’t told him that this meant training alongside the Galran army.

 

“Working alongside the Galra?” He had spit out in shock, nearly choking on his own saliva. Coran and Alfor stood at the foot of his bed, serious in every sense. “Why? And why so _early_? You’ve woken me up nearly - ” Lance paused to take out a universal device to contact others, take the time, and occasionally to release a distress signal. On Earth in 10,000 years later, this creation is similar to what is called a phone. He lets out a moderately distressed groan. “ - three vargas earlier than usual!”

 

Alfor gave his advisor a confused sort of look. Coran merely shrugged his shoulders before he spoke, a hand cupped to his chin. “The clock of the rest of Altea isn’t exactly built to accustom the clock of Lance, your highness.”

 

“It should be.” A grumble that was barely heard as Lance slammed his head into his pillow, arms spread out on either side. Coran laughed cheerily, ever the supporting man he was.

 

“We want you to help the heads of the Galra training facility because Zarkon asked us to, in efforts to strengthen the armies. He’s rather impressed by your skill with a blaster, you know,” Alfor said. The pride in his voice certainly didn’t fly over Lance’s head. Encouragement to get his lazy hide out of bed or not, Lance was dressed and washing his face to oblivion in six dobashes. The smile on his face was rewarding enough to Alfor and Coran. Even if only one of them would outwardly mention such.

 

With the sleeping prince now awake and dressed, the three made haste through the castle. This, however, was quite impossible in itself. With other workers in the castle stalking up to Coran with quiet questions, soldiers and attendants rushing alongside Alfor with inquiries and Lance- well, Lance being Lance and flirting with every decent looking Altean he found, they managed to stir enough noise to garner even more of an audience.

 

“I can’t leave any of you alone for six minutes, I swear to the cosmos,” An exasperated voice sighed from somewhere in a grouped crowd. Alfor breathed a sigh of relief as Allura marched through a narrow path made by those few gathered. In a swift movement, she had pulled Lance from an Altean girl by his ear. “If _I_ told you that that pick-up line wouldn’t work on any woman in her right mind, then you don’t use it, Lance. Even if Blaytz insured its success.”

 

“It was a brilliant pick-up line! Coran agreed with me!” The younger prince cried, Allura giving the mustache brandished advisor a deadpanned look.

 

“There is a possibility that it would be very flattering to some people,” He merely said in his positive voice.

 

“See!”

 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Father, where were you intended to go?”

 

“The training deck.”

 

“Ah, then our destinations correlate. You lead on, and _I_ will keep Lance in check.”

 

“You’re threatening me, aren’t you?” Lance whined.

 

“Why whatever makes you say that?” She innocently said.

 

“Allura, for the love of the cosmos, do _not_ threaten your brother. Even if his flirting is that awful.”

 

“I for one think it’s charming.”

 

“Thank you, Coran. My genius will not go unnoticed.”

 

Allura held onto Lance’s ear the entire trip to the training deck. Which wouldn’t be bad if they didn’t have to descend two flights of stairs and cross a field’s length to get to it. Thankfully, no one would ridicule Lance for it later. His elder sister was a threat to be taken seriously when her mind was set on something.

With the doors shoved aside and the royal family (plus Coran) shoved into the vast space, Allura released Lance. Of course, his instinct was to go sailing over the edge of the stairs. However, he stopped short at the sight of soldiers gathered that we're quite visibly _not_ Altean. “They’re already here?” He said with a shocked voice. Alfor nodded. Allura excused herself quietly. Lance straightened his back, sighing deeply. “Okay. Show me the leaders of the Galra training.”

 

There were only two, Coran had cheerily informed him as he called over the Galra in question. Descending the stairs Lance had a thought. This couldn’t be so bad, he had reassured himself with a smug smirk. He even upheld this thought as a stern-looking soldier looming over him approached, yellow eyes almost judging. “There’s only one?” Lance asked no one in particular.

 

“No,’ The gruff soldier said, his eyes looking rather wary for a split second as his clawed hand scratched the nape of his neck “My general is ah-” Oh. Lance blinked, glancing to Alfor. He only shrugged. This extremely buff and somewhat threatening Galra was a lieutenant? Then where was the other general? “Well, see for yourself.”

  


Finding the general was simple. He was yelling loud enough for even Zarkon to hear it from the hangar. According to the Lieutenant, it was over a lost sparring match. “But it helps the soldier learn the patterns of their comrades if they lose,” Lance had murmured.

 

“All the more reason why they need your help, your majesty,” Coran chirped brightly.

 

“You let your guard down, dimwit! Thank the Nebulas this is only training and not battle or you’d be dead!” The general was yelling sternly. Lance looked far and wide for an even taller Galra with some terrifying sort of face. But the tone of the general was what caught his attention. It was genuinely afraid, deep down in that aggression.

 

“Sorry, sir,” The Galra said. She was easily sought out by sheer size, hands clasped behind her back and eyes looking straight forward. Her weapon laid discarded on the floor.  “It won’t happen again, sir,” She then said as he went off on her once more.

 

Lance almost laughed. In front of this gargantuan soldier was a much smaller Galra, his helmet held beneath his arm. From where he stood, his features were hidden. All he saw was black hair. Deciding that the poor soldier had enough, he cleared his throat. The general tensed.

 

“King Alfor and Prince Lance are behind me.” It’s a statement. His head shifts slightly to the Lieutenant. He nods in confirmation.

 

“If this was an actual battle she would be dead,” Lance helpfully supplied. “But, if she failed because of incompetence, the blame returns to you and your method of training.”

 

“You-” The general whirled around. He expected to be threatened, the man before him instead furrowing his brows after momentary shock. Lance, however, allowed his shock to be freely shown. It could be dumbed down to the height of him, of course. No one but Lance knew that he was taken aback by the sheer beauty of him. Not that this general’s fellow Galra couldn’t be attractive, of course. It was just that he was drawn to him in the way that planets gravitate to their suns. Even if his eyes still homed the most threatening yellow gaze he’d ever seen.

 

Lance could admit that his primal instinct to flirt with anything that walks was beginning to kick in. Even if the general had the potential to rip off his face. “You’re . . . You’re right. As much as I hate to admit it. Sheelo told me the same thing yesterday.” His cheeks flush with shame.

 

“He’s a general as well, isn’t he?” Alfor asked curiously.

 

“Yes. He will be arriving on a later date to train with your men and assess our progress,” The general supplied easily. He moved to put his helmet back on, encasing any recognizable Altean features. His clawed hands hesitated. But only for a second. Lance made note of that.

 

“Lance, this is Keith,” the king went on to say. The general nodded his head in acknowledgment. He bowed briefly to Alfor and Coran and held his hand out to Lance. He took it without much thought.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Lance said as the two shook hands. Much to his own dismay, he wasn’t flirting with this handsome hybrid. Allura would be _so_ proud. “I look forward to working with you.”

 

Keith hesitated again. His hand felt warmer than before. “And I look forward to beating you in combat.” His voice was calm and collected.

 

Smooth. Lance had to give him that, if anything. A grin was spreading across his face before he could even process it, Alfor placing a hand on his advisor’s shoulder. “Coran, I’m leaving this mess to you.”

 

“Oh, lovely!” Coran said lightly. His eyes spoke murder to the king behind Lance’s back.

 

“Why wait? We do have to have an understanding of how the other functions in battle, you know,” Lance crooned with his crooked grin, cocking a brow at him.

 

“Fair enough. Soldiers, find an Altean to spar with for a warm-up,” Keith calls out to the training deck. An Altean girl sitting under a tree tenses up as a large Galra approaches her. “After we know the opposing race’s techniques, we will move on to the sentry training to see how well we work together.

 

“Vivi, What did I say about finding convenient shade during training,” Lance exasperatedly called out. He had made the mistake of flirting with her once. He shuddered at the memory. Never again, he had vowed.

 

“Soldiers who take it easy will end up dying first?”

 

“No, that was probably Allura. Just don’t do it when you’re waiting for what type of training we’re going to do.”

 

“So I can slack off when I pummel my training partner into the ground?”

 

“Exactly!”

 

“Your training ethic is terrible, Prince Lance,” Keith called out from where he stood, explaining to a Galra soldier that the Alteans will _not_ eat his ankles to win. Lance told the rather buff soldier that it wasn’t guaranteed. But extremely possible if paired with Fiero. The look of sheer terror on his face was enough to put decapheebs on Lance’s life. It took several off of Keith’s.

“It’s great, actually,” Lance chirped brightly with a broad smile, fishing around for his blaster slash spear. He decided to call it a blaster just to confuse everyone the day his mother decided to give it to him. “My soldiers fight effectively and have fun doing it.”

 

Vivi enthusiastically shouts to support her Prince's statement, joined in with a majority of his soldiers. Keith made a motion to pinch the bridge of his nose, instead palming the front of his helmet. The sentiment was there.

 

“On the count of three,” Lance announced to the mass of soldiers, “You will begin to duel. If you take down your partner, make sure they didn’t sustain injuries. Afterward, you may team up on someone.”

 

“Really?” Keith asked, his sword spinning around in a rhythmical pattern. So he’s a blade kind of guy. Lance could dig it. “That’s stupid.”

 

“ _You’re_ stupid-” Lance immediately began with, quickly realizing that this wasn’t Allura. And even if he wasn’t, this was a matter of first impressions. With a polite cough, he corrected himself, “It makes things more entertaining.” And, he theorized, will make quite an interesting scenario when they’re the only two sparring partners left. Vivi would be one of the surviving Alteans, he rationalized. Keith did the same, focusing not on the sickening grin on Lance’s lips but his own soldiers. He knew that Cinth, his lieutenant, would take down Fiero easily.

 

It didn’t stop him from reminding him to watch his ankles.

 

And then the countdown began. Coran led it willingly, Alfor having left a while ago. In fact, the trusty advisor seemed happy to be able to do this silly request of Lance’s. It confused Keith.

 

“Three-” Lance pressed a button on the holster of his blaster. It unfolded with a flick, his sparring partner tensing momentarily. It was the typical response.

 

“-Two-” All soldiers dropped to their starting positions. Lance was a noticeably closed book, apart from his cocky grin as he turned his spear over in his hands.

  


“-One!”

  


But just readable enough for Keith.

  
  
  
  


Lance was still on his back seven dobashes after Keith had knocked the wind out of him. Keith was faux-sympathetically patting his head. With his foot.

 

“That was impossible.”

 

“And yet here you lay.”

 

“You can’t fight a blade guy with a spear.”

 

“You can, it’s just that I’m just better than you are. No need to beat yourself up over it.” He was smiling. Lance couldn’t see his face through the helmet, but he knew the bastard was grinning to the ear. He outstretched his arms pathetically. “What? Want a hug?”

 

“No,” He simply answered, “I want to strangle you.”

 

“ _Lance_ ,” Alfor sharply scolded from the top of the stairs. Trigel, Zarkon, Gyrgan, and Blaytz stood beside him, all looking amused in some sort of way.  

 

“Pops, look at this demon and tell me I have no right to strangle our Galra friend here.” A long moment of silence as Alfor looked down at his pouting younger child and the Galra general with a sword.

 

“You have no right to strangle Keith.”

 

Now Lance was up to his feet in a second, mouth open as if to protest. The look that Coran gave him reminded him that not only was he in front of the paladins of Voltron but his own soldiers. It got him to shut up effectively. Alfor should promote this man again. Honorary king? Maybe he’d get a parade. The mere thought of floats with his face plastered on them alone made Lance chuckle.

 

“But do _I_ have the right to strangle _him_?” Keith asked. He almost seemed serious. Alfor and Zarkon chuckled.

 

“No, I don’t think so. That would get you into a lot of trouble.”

 

“I don’t know pops, having him strangle me sounds like a wonderful ni-”

 

Keith stepped on his foot. Intentional or not, it hurt enough to turn his first flirt towards this exasperated general into a screech worthy of being a war cry.

 

Coran winced at the sight. Alfor had his life flash before his eyes several times over, with Trigel comfortingly patting his back. “This was a terrible decision,” he said mostly to himself. He could almost hear Allura telling him the exact same thing a couple vargas ago.

 

Her words were now mocking him.

  


_______________

  


Lance still found himself whining about how much his foot hurt when Keith was walking beside him down the hall, the young prince now officially ‘his problem until further notice’. That was how Zarkon had put it, anyway. With his helmet removed he could see and hear far clearer, which was nothing but a disadvantage to him.

 

Because Zarkon refrained from informing him that Lance doesn’t shut up. He mostly talked about how he had no idea that Keith was going to be here and other various things (such as places to see since he hadn’t been to Altea before). The occasional flirt with anyone passing and Keith himself was inevitable.

 

He learned to assault him every time a terrible pick-up line reached his ears in a few minutes. Lance insisted that Keith was blind to the majesty of his romantic skills.

 

He wasn’t.

 

“Lance?”

 

“Hm?” He looked over from the window where he had fixated his gaze, previously speaking animatedly about that one time Allura and he had outrun all of Voltron’s paladins and Coran, who had been stuck on babysitting duty while their mother went to visit her family. His faint smile spoke volumes on the pride he holds in his elder sister.

 

He didn’t give any sort of remark on not calling him any variant of ‘your majesty’. Keith made a mental note.

 

“Working with you is going to be one of the most frustrating experiences in my miserable existence.”

 

Which in Keith language roughly translated to 'Our partnership is going to give me the most entertainment since Sheelo befriended me.'

 

Lance only gave that bright smile that makes Keith curse the cosmos. In a good way. He seemed blissfully unbothered by his blunt and rather rude statement. In fact, he shaped the harsh comment into something that better suited his own mind. It explained to Keith only a part of the confusing complexity that was Prince Lance.“Thanks, buddy. I look forward to getting to know you, too. Maybe someday we’ll be the best ass-kicking duo in the galaxy!”

 

Those words made Keith stumble over his own feet, stutter on his own words. With a sad excuse for a smile, he told Lance that he’d like that.

 

It was no empty promise, through and through. Keith just didn’t expect for his plans to go into effect after Altea fell due to his own incompetence.


	2. Aquarius

Allura remembers Lance crashing into a Galra battleship. She remembers the way Keith screamed over the voice channel to the castle of Lions before he went diving after him and how Alfor winced upon hearing it. She remembers the way Coran shouted for Keith to return to the castle after extracting Lance. The way Alfor’s knuckles turned white as he grasped the controls.

 

She doesn’t remember what happened to Lance and Keith after that.  Whatever the outcome, she was put into stasis before she could see it through personally. Without knowing whether or not Altea would win the battle.

 

Now she’s waking up. The ice is melting off of her skin and she’s falling forward, face throbbing from the cold. She shouts for her father, reaching out to stop him, persuade him,  _ anything _ . 

 

If she can convince Alfor to save himself, she will. Then she’s painfully aware of how utterly still and quiet the castle is. There is no battle erupting around her, just the worried outcry of strangers and a strong arm steadying her. Allura shakily looks up to an unfamiliar face. There’s a scar across the bridge of his nose and a shock of white hair against black. His eyes have the same look of soldiers retired from a war.

 

She wants to ask him who he is,  _ where  _ she is. In a split tick, she knows she hasn’t left the castle of Lions.

 

And all she sees this stranger as is a  _ threat _ . 

 

So, Allura does what any sane Altean does in this situation- and pins him to the ground. “Where the quiznak is King Alfor and what are you doing in  _ my _ castle?!” She shouts to him as he warily looks to his companions. It doesn’t seem to be a cry of help, as even Allura knows he’s capable of at least holding his own against her. 

 

“A yellow robot lion brought us here. That’s as much as we know about this situation,” the stranger calmly says. For some reason, he makes sure to move his metal arm away from her. As if it could harm her.

 

“What? How do you have the yellow lion? What happened to its Paladin?” Allura stands, releasing the stranger in her shock. He takes his time to stand, dusting himself off once he does so. “Unless . . . No, that’s not possible. How long has it been?” Now she’s partially speaking to herself and the three gathered. A large man with dark skin and yellow clothing, a small pre-teen with brown hair (presumably older. These are not Alteans, Allura quickly figures out. Their ears are too ugly) fixing his glasses, and the stranger in black. 

 

“What?” the small one asks. “We don’t know what that means.”

 

“But if you tell us your name, maybe we can help,” the older stranger suggests. Despite being slammed to the ground, he’s rather willing to assist her. She decides that these strangers are anything but dangerous.

 

“I am princess Allura of planet Altea. Now please move aside, I’ve got to figure out just how long I’ve been asleep.” 

 

The teenager in yellow moves the short one in green aside like he weighs nothing.

 

Allura quickly activates the center holograph, just in time for Coran to wake up. He immediately takes the guy in yellow for an enemy and lunges to attack. The stranger in yellow screams, lunging to the side. 

 

“You’re lucky I-” he begins, about to give a threat to the poor man. Allura almost feels bad for him.

 

“Coran, not now,” She commands over her shoulder, brows furrowing as she watches the screen pop up with the information she requires. A gasp catches in her throat.

 

“Princess? What is it?” Coran asks, hesitantly drifting closer.

 

Allura’s eyes don’t stray from the screen, her body frozen in place. “We’ve been asleep for over ten thousand years. Coran, that means that Altea . . . Father and Lance . . . All of our civilization is gone,” She says. Her sorrow turns into anger faster than the flip of a coin. “All because of Zarkon.”

  
  


“Zarkon?” A pained look crosses the older stranger’s face.

 

“He was the king of the Galra.” She says it dismissively, as Zarkon should be dead by now. The look on the man with the old eyes gives her speaks otherwise.

 

“I was his prisoner,” The stranger blurts. 

 

“Impossible. He’s still alive?”

 

“I wish I could explain it to you, but I know this to be true. Please take my word for it, princess.”

 

And Allura does the most unbelievable thing.

 

She believes him.

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

A varga later, Allura is still researching. Anything she can get on Altea. Updates, distress calls, anything. Coran tries to coax her into eating. She reassures him that she isn’t hungry. She hears tiny voices in the back of her mind, and a squeak from the outside. No words could describe her elation when she finds Altean mice looking up at her, her mind buzzing with greetings. Even if her younger brother and dear father were no more, another small part of Altea is able to live on with her.

 

Then the alert of a Galra ship headed their way disrupts her joy.

  
  
  
  
  


 

Allura quickly decides that the lions must be found. Which is quite difficult with exactly five people, one lion already bonded to its paladin (the yellow lion to the human named Hunk), and one Altean required at the castle with only a few days to find it.

 

The human named Shiro comes up with a sound system once Allura declares who pilots which lion and why the lions would pick them. He would take the human named Pidge to get the green lion in a spare ship, and Hunk will take the yellow lion to retrieve the blue lion. Allura and Coran will stay to make necessary repairs and devise a plan to capture the red lion from the Galra. And look for new paladins, as much as Allura hates to admit it.

 

She didn’t propose that she become one of the paladins. Even the mere thought of going near the Red or Blue lions, lingering with the ghosts of her family, had made her feel sick. She also refrained from mentioning that before she had been put to sleep, her bond to the lions had told her that Keith and Lance were perfect candidates for paladins. Even Blaytz and Alfor knew this and confirmed her suspicions on the matter.

 

“Now Hunk, you have to be extremely careful when you reach this planet,” Coran begins as they suit up into their paladin armor a few vargas later. Pidge brandishes his Bayard with a broad grin. “There are many underwater formations that you can run into, especially with the slower controls. Not to mention the creatures are acidic.”

 

“Got it,” he nervously says, Bayard reverting back from its gigantic blaster. Coran continues on to explain the landscape to Shiro and Pidge. Then one by one the new paladins file away, leaving Allura standing in front of the two capsules holding the red and blue armor. Her arms wrap around her waist.

 

“Well, at least they’re color-coordinated. Made this a lot easier for us,” Coran says cheerily with a laugh. His attempt to brighten her mood. But the loss of her father and brother, as annoying as Lance was, couldn’t be shaken by a single joke.

 

“It wasn’t supposed to end up like this, Coran,” She quietly says as the advisor stops beside her. “They should have been here with us.”

 

“You know Keith- he was exactly like your father. Always taking on challenges no one should take alone. Like courting Lance, for example,” Coran says helpfully. His voice is stronger than hers, but no doubt filled with just as much sorrow. She spares a smile to him to ease his nerves.

 

“That’s why he would have made an excellent red paladin. And his skills as a pilot . . . were definitely something to consider. Especially when he teamed up with Lance in battle.” Allura says nothing on how perfect Lance would be for Blue. She loved him and his jokes, Blaytz had said with pride when the prince wasn’t around to Alfor, who mentioned it to Allura with the same pride. “And Lance loved him just as fiercely as Keith did. I just can’t believe that despite that they just-” Allura’s words catch in her throat. Even as the Galra had turned on Altea, Keith had remained on their side. Not just for Lance, but for his stubborn belief that the universe must be protected from evil- even if it was his own kind. 

 

He was the only Galra Altea could trust.

 

“Everything will work out, princess,” Coran says with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We will make sure their death and your father’s death won’t be in vain. But if it eases your pain, try not to think of their lacking presences.”

 

She takes his advice gratefully.

  
  
  
  
  


 

After a few vargas, Hunk’s wary voice reaches the command deck. His face appears in front of Allura, a confused look on his face. “Uh, Allura?”

 

“What is it, Hunk?” She asks, peering forward. His location pops up- only a little ways from the Blue Lion.

 

“You said that all of Altea was destroyed.”

 

“Yes.”

  
  
  


“Then . . . Why am I looking at an Altean right now?”

  
  


 

☽ ♛ ☾

  
  
  
  
  


 

Lance’s mind pulses against his skull, following the beat of his heart. Then, in an instant, the heavy beat of his heart skips a beat. And speeds up. His eyes fly open, warm air slamming against his cold skin as he collapses forward. His lungs strain against his ribs as he takes a heaving deep intake of breath before crashing to the ground. 

 

Over and over his mind replays the last fleeting moments of his consciousness.  Keith releasing a monstrous scream that barely reaches his ears, hand covered in his own blood. The look of fury and raw fear in the Galra’s face as he slashed through the invaders, Lance held close to him. Allura shouts from the castle of Lions to get out of there. Then he says something to Keith, and his world went black.

 

He looks around wildly, expecting to still hear the sound of battle surrounding him. He fumbles for his weapon, only to find nothing present.

 

Instead of finding Keith brandishing his sword and hearing Allura presumably body-slamming enemies with Coran, Lance finds an abandoned infirmary with a flipped table thrown against a wall, a medicine cabinet shoved against the door and scratched to the nebulas, and his dead communicator abandoned in the center of the room. Other cryo-pods surround him, though he doesn’t stare long enough to see if any of the others are occupied. 

 

He hears the sound of water somewhere outside. 

 

This isn’t Altea.

 

A part of him knows this as his knees give out and he once again crashes to the ground. By the willow, the cosmos, and everything held holy in the universe, a subconscious part of him is painfully aware. 

 

Yet he silently begs that part of his mind to give him this one moment.

 

His mind obeys diligently.

  
  


Lance remains like this for some time. His mind spins and he continues to shake all the while. Then he forces himself to stand, black dots scattering across his vision. He still feels the cold through his armor.

 

His first act in comprehending his new shaky reality is to activate the cryo-pod control panel, located next to his communicator. The panel glows a vivid blue for only a split second before displaying a red screen informing him that there was damage to the controls. 

 

Then the power inside the infirmary cut out altogether.

 

“Oh, come  _ on _ !” He cries, slamming a fist against the panel. 

 

Shockingly, it does not reactivate. 

 

Now with his throat throbbing as if the mere act of talking alone was harmful, Lance goes to investigate the only other person in a cryo-pod chamber, noticed in his time on the floor. He expects Allura to be in there. Coran, at the least. But from the height of the silhouette and the fluffy ears-

 

Lance finds himself face-to-face with a comatose Keith. He fiercely holds his blade in hand, body language not at all peaceful. He went into the cryo-pod tense, worried, and prepared to fight upon release. His face, however, is peaceful. These clashing factors don’t quite comfort Lance. 

 

When he heaves a sigh of relief, Lance finds himself feeling selfish. A part of him knows that he should have been wishing for Allura or Coran to be in the pod instead. The rest of him is too happy to see that Keith didn’t go rushing back into battle to die by his own kinds' hands.

  
  
  
  
  


 

Half a varga later, Lance is wiping his sweating forehead, vambraces removed and black under clothing rolled to his elbows. Before him is a removed panel from the control panel, inner workings spilled over his lap. He had broken away the panel to see nothing outwardly wrong. Still, Lance is content on finding a way to bring power back to this infirmary. If not to get a grasp on where he is, then to find a way to force his favorite shrunken Galra from his icy prison. 

 

Lance is  _ this _ close to giving up when he finds the problem- a double-sided dagger shoved into a wire port. Lance’s initials burned into the blade was a clear indication of the perpetrator. “Keith.” He exasperatedly sighs, giving a pointed glare to the occupied cryo-pod. “You can’t stop being a compulsive, paranoid idiot for one minute, can you?”

 

It could be argued that that compulsion was one of the reasons Lance fell in love with Keith. However, Lance isn’t currently up for arguing with himself nor is his mental state to that point. 

 

Lance gives up on fixing the control panel without much thanks to his sleeping beauty. However, he now has Keith’s favorite dagger, which he supposes is a victory in this failure. Brandishing his new Galra blade, Lance makes no move to shove the makeshift barricade from the doorframe. Instead, he slumps to the ground against Keith’s cryo-pod, dead communicator in hand. 

 

The surface is cold against Lance’s back. He glances up to Keith. When he doesn’t suddenly awake, he lets out a distressed sort of sigh. “You could have at least left a message to explain all of this,” He mutters as if Keith can hear him. He can’t. “Maybe something along the lines of ‘hey you fine piece of ass, If you’re reading this I’m still in cryo-sleep because the universe is dark and depressing and the fight for Altea’s still happening! Or not! Your weapon is here and I have a ship here. Also I killed the control panel with my sick knife. Much love, Keith.’ Would have made this easier.”

 

Of course, Keith doesn’t respond.

 

“But you probably weren’t thinking logically, knowing you. Me being out cold wouldn’t help, huh?”

 

. . .

 

He lets out a shaking sigh, laying his head against his knees. His arms are neatly folded beneath.

 

“I’m scared, love. I don’t know why we’re here or if Zarkon’s winning or if father and the other paladins are safe but I can’t go and find out myself since leaving you alone would mean you could get captured and I just-” Lance rubs his eyes hastily, as if it could stop the panicked tears forming in his eyes.  He stares back up at Keith’s unnaturally peaceful expression, searching for some sort of solace. He gets none.

  
  


“I don’t know what to do for once in my life.”

  
  
  
  
  


 

After another varga passes, Lance is finally motivated to move Keith’s barricade from the door to explore beyond the infirmary by his stomach grumbling. It doesn’t take more than a few ticks for him to do so. Even a child would be able to pass his poor excuse of blocking the door with ease. 

 

No one is rushing through the halls. No one is shouting orders from another room. Everything is still as Lance wanders through the silent and dark halls, lights flickering to life around him. His heart beats in time with every resounding clack of his boots. 

 

 

Lance finds no other signs of life in this bizarre, small base.

 

He does, however, find a kitchen. He doesn’t even think about looking for food goo, as he, as an Altean with morals, would never forgive himself if he consumed it. So he decides to move on.

  
  
  


Lance finds a research lab. It’s small, and all working technology seems to have gotten some sort of water damage. He has a momentary scream of frustration before continuing on.

 

He finds bedrooms. They seem abandoned, with dead communicators and clothes scattered everywhere.

  
  
  


He finds hangars. No ships are present. A pull deep inside him begs to search deeper into the hangar. That he’ll find something of utmost importance if he does.

 

 

The last time he did that he ended up at the end of a space pirate's sword with Keith only dragging them into even more of a mess.

 

 

So he continues on with that pull still tugging inside him and a new sense of wariness.

  
  
  


Lance finds the control room. It’s empty, and the observation glass has long since been covered by moss and barnacles. He can’t activate anything beyond old research logs. 

  
  
  


He returns back to the Infirmary. Just to make sure Keith hadn’t emerged from the cryo-pod while he was gone. Not at all to stare longingly at him for several dobashes. Nope, not Lance. He feels entirely at ease not knowing what happened to his frozen lover in his time rendered unconscious.

  
  
  
  
  


 

Lance spends three more vargas drifting through the hall in front of the infirmary and lab.

  
  
  
  
  


 

He tells Keith about all of the stuff he’s been discovering in the research facility and how he’s shocked he never knew of this place on the fourth varga

  
  
  
  
  


 

He finds what he thinks to be an exit by the time the fifth varga rolls around.

  
  
  
  
  


 

He falls asleep by the seventh varga, cheek numbed by the cold of the cryo-pod. He resigns himself to remaining in this research facility until Keith wakes up. Then they’ll head back to Altea to evacuate and continue the fight. When his own exhaustion takes over he has a small smile on his lips as he imagines Viv and Blaytz welcoming him back.

  
  
  
  
  


 

Lance wakes up on the tenth varga, the building rumbling all around him. He’s up in a tick, double-sided dagger held tightly in hand and listening in for the sound of shouting soldiers. When he hears nothing and the facility rumbles once again, he heads out of the infirmary with one last glance to Keith. He entirely forgets his vambraces.

  
  
  
  
  


 

The exit had begun cementing itself shut with the salt water trapped on the other side being absolutely no help. It’s quick work to open it, however, with Keith’s dagger and an adrenaline rush like no Altean’s seen before on his side. Water is pouring around his feet in a few dobashes after he pressed one of the only functioning buttons in this facility- the buttons to close and open doors. Lance thinks he sees a sea creature’s skeleton float by.

 

Hesitantly, he steps forward. A half-circle extension forms from the building, no doubt to prevent excess water entering the facility. However, draining the area was an afterthought of Lance’s.

 

The transparent walls caved around him nearly takes his breath away. The blue light of several suns shining through the water warms his face. He sees sea creatures swimming all around him, dangerous and neutral, none of them familiar to him. 

 

Then he finds himself face-to-face with the yellow lion to his right. Lance stands frozen for a long moment before warily calling out, “Gyrgan . . . ?”

 

Then the lion’s mouth is opening, and a figure comes swimming out. At first, Lance is convinced that it’s truly the yellow Paladin. He corrects himself as the figure approaches tentatively that this is  _ not _ Gyrgan. 

 

He doesn’t stop to panic over what the lack of the old yellow paladin means. This man in the yellow paladin armor moves with a wariness of Lance. 

 

But he isn’t afraid of him. And Lance doesn’t fear him if the yellow lion allows his presence to pilot it. 

  
  


So he lets this new paladin inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was mostly me going back to episode one and trying to figure out how the hell to re-write the dialogue to sound more natural and adapting to the lack of Lance and Keith interactions.
> 
> In other news, I'm going back to school tomorrow, so updates may be slowed down. But knowing me, this isn't really likely.


	3. Draco

**_Nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine years ago (as calculated by Lance in the present)_ **

  
  
  


 

 

Keith and Lance had made a schedule on that first quintent. Lance begrudgingly agreed to arrange a system for the two generals to work with, soon finding that he could put it in his own favor instead of Keith’s. Alfor advised that he be courteous and put the Galra training system on the first alternating day. Allura all but threatened him to do it. 

 

Of course, Lance pulled the prince card (which he rarely did since he formed the guard) and told Alfor that it was his right as his son to do as he wished. Allura pulling out her staff was what won Lance over to their father’s side. 

 

So when the fourth day- scheduled for Altean training rolled around- Lance was already waiting in his designated location excitedly talking to Hedwidge, the head supervisor of research considering foreign planets. Ever since Honerva had left Altea she had taken her place. She was also one of the few people genuinely interested in how the flirtatious prince functioned.

  
  
  


“I was wondering if you could monitor them, see how the Galra hold up in today’s training,” Lance was saying. He stands relaxed and unguarded, a hand rubbing the nape of his neck, where a clock is clasped. “From what I've seen, Keith’s never done this kind of exercise.”

 

“There’s always a first for everything. And plus,” Hedwidge said with a wink, adjusting her glasses, “This is a prime opportunity to show up this general in a way beyond looks, huh?”

 

“Show him beyond  _ what _ ?” Vivi asked from behind Hedwidge, slinging an arm around the startled researcher. She punched Lance harshly in the shoulder. “Are you flirting with the prince, Widgie?” She cooed. Her companion pushed away her face with a screen. The blush on her cheeks, however, gave Lance blackmail to use someday. Mother would be  _ so _ proud.

 

“No, I’m not. It’s just commonly known that both princess Allura and Lance are born with prime appearances.”

 

“The thought was there. Don’t take this away from us, Widget,” Lance moped. 

 

“Lance?  _ Attractive _ ? Where?” Fiero asked as he all but ran over, pressing a hand above his brow and moving his head around as if to search. More Altean soldiers piled in behind him, all joining in on the joking act of looking for Lance’s beauty without much question as to why. One soldier even began to sift through the grass.

 

Lance quirked a brow, arms folded to show that he wasn’t enjoying their mockery of his beauty. Even if they all knew it to be the exact opposite. “Ha ha. Very funny, you guys. I’ll have you know that even if none of you can fall victim to my charm, the people love it.”

 

“Mhm, keep tellin’ yourself that, Lancey Lance,” Klyran drawled with a broad grin, tongue stuck through teeth. He arrived with a large group of younger soldiers. The most infuriatingly cocky of Lance’s soldiers. If he hadn’t frustrated him with all of his taunts, the two might have been closer. Lance might have even considered teaching him the ways of flirting. But, alas, Klyran was a piece of shit. 

 

“Lancey Lance, huh?” Keith asked from behind Lance, where he stood with his lieutenant and a large batch of his own soldiers. The Alteans froze at that with the exclusion of Hedwidge, who only gaped at him. Lance didn’t blame her. When he spun around to spit a retort, he found Keith to be smiling fondly. He wondered how long he’d been there. “I like it.”

 

“Well, now no one can call me that. Look what you did, Keith. You ruined it.”

 

“Damn you, Keith,” Vivi muttered lightly. “Sir.” She coughed after the fact.

 

“You ruined it on your own,” He pointed out with a clawed hand on his hip. The Lieutenant glanced between the two curiously, before beckoning for the handful of Galra soldiers awkwardly gathered to file in.

 

“Suuureee. Hello, you guys! We’re waiting on the rest of the soldiers before we start so you can just mix ‘n mingle with each other. Do not, however, talk to Klyran. He’s on my shit list right now.”

 

“Yes sir,” The soldiers mumbled in unison.

 

“And don’t call me sir. It makes me feel . . .  _ Old _ ,” Lance ordered with a shudder.

 

“Oh, but commander works?” Hedwidge asked from where she stood, sparing only a glance from the Galra she hunted down with a fury, screen held tight against her chest. Although she was entirely serious, the looks from the rest of his soldiers are teasing. Viv seemed to be planning out all of the various ways for her to call him sir. Keith has a similar devilish look. Lance didn’t like it.

 

This is going to be a long few dobashes, Lance exhaustedly thought to himself as he met their eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

☽ ♛ ☾

 

 

 

 

 

Keith had no idea what Lance had up his sleeve. But from the moment the grin had grown across his dark lips, he knew it wasn’t going to be fun for him. So it would only be common sense to ask the out of place researcher why they were gathered here. He had tried to ask her  _ why _ she was here, exactly, but she just stared at him unblinkingly until he got uncomfortable and left. 

 

Hedwidge looked up from the Galra soldier she was currently interrogating, giving him a blissfully blank look. It didn’t calm his nerves. “You don’t have to worry about anything, general. If you’re as competent as Lance says you are, then this should be a piece of cake.”

 

“He . . . thinks I’m competent?” Keith asked. Slowly and hesitantly. As if he didn’t believe her. Which, he didn’t. Keith thought, until that point, that Lance thought all of his practices and ways of leading were terrible. The two shifted their gazes to watch the prince, who was currently putting a Galra soldier named Sarpedon (who had merged seamlessly into the Altean battlefront) in a headlock to ruffle his fur. Vivi cheered him on.

 

“I would assume so. Why else would he be making an effort to work with you?” Hedwidge returns to her research. Her hands freeze over her screen before she gives one last comment. “The last general Alfor tried to get Lance to work with quit out of anger.”

 

He didn’t know whether to feel touched by that fact or feel mildly afraid of the grinning, teasing, easygoing, flirtatious Lance now.

  
  
  
  


“Okay,” Lance said once the rest of the units arrived. An altean soldier was laughing with a group of Galra, all holding small smiles. Keith was glad to know that they were bonding in the very least. “I’m going to give you Galra the layout. And if any Alteans quiznaking snitched, you’re going to be sitting in timeout.” He glared knowingly at Hedwidge. Vivi scratched the back of her neck with a nervous looking expression.

 

His training course is an old game that the Altean soldiers and Lance came up with when they were children planning on becoming the first Altean guards, he told Keith later. The rules were to get through an obstacle course and find a scrap of cloth in your team’s color. It was a test of endurance, agility, and teamwork. 

 

“What if two teams end up tying?” Sarpedon had asked after Lance had gone over the basics. 

 

“Oh, I actually have no idea. Trigel already took dibs on that if it happens.”

 

And that was Lance’s passive way of telling the poor soldiers that the paladins of Voltron were involved in some way, shape, or form. They were on the border between excited and scared shitless because of that.

 

 

 

  
  
Melo, Sarpedon, Wyx, Ryl, Xenomora, and Keith were the Galra soldiers assigned to the purple team. Fiero, Vivi, Elyria, and Lance were the Altean representatives on the team. Laughter erupted from several groups, all far larger in number compared to theirs. However, they had three Alteans who held a hand in creating this game. The only other team was the blue team, with Aeneas.

 

So they had the upper hand, he'd say.

 

 

 

 

 

“You in position, ‘widge?” Lance asked without looking at anyone particular. Keith had no idea what exactly he was doing until he brushed strands of his pure white hair behind his ear to reveal a wrap earring that stretched up to his temple and just barely below his jaw.  The purple crystals flickered with a faint glow as she responded with words no others could hear. Lance grinned. “Great. Allura, you wanna do the honors?”

 

“Have your pick-up lines ever entirely failed in romancing someone?” Allura’s voice boomed from an unknown source nearby. It startled Keith though he didn’t let it show beyond his apathetic expression. Melo, on the other hand, screamed in surprise.

 

“N-” 

 

“Yes. The answer is yes, Lance.”

 

Vivi snorted. Coran could be heard whispering something to Allura.

 

“Okay. We’re ready. Soldiers, are you adequately prepared?” She asked in her calm voice. There’s a jumble of answers that was taken for a yes regardless. Keith noticed how eager Lance looked at that point, his right hand gripping his cape tightly. He turned his glistening blue gaze to him, a silent challenge underneath.

 

“Then we will start on my word.”

 

Keith quirked a brow in response. He took the challenge without knowing what exactly it would be. Lance tapped Sarpedon on his shoulder and murmured something in his ear. The soldier’s eyes widened and he passed on the message quickly. The cocky Altean then told him the message, without the order to pass it on. “Remove your armor. Quick. The obstacles are designed to knock you back if it comes into contact with bulky clothing, or destroy them completely. Depends on their moods. And if it makes you feel better, Fiero’s only got his underwear on under his armor.”

 

Xenomora barked a laugh as Lance’s reassurance reached her. Keith  _ did _ feel better knowing that. 

 

“Ready - ”

 

A lion roared somewhere far off. Lance’s grin broadened as the other teams’ eyes widened in fear. Keith all but burst out laughing as a pull deep in him beckoned to the forest. They had already removed the top portion of their armor silently, tossing it into Lance’s cape.

 

“ - Set - ”

 

Obstacles formed in a burst of blue light all around the teams. Lance tossed the cape filled with armor far off. It landed behind a rock.

 

“ - Not yet, Klyran, - ”

 

The team dropped into running positions. “Stay together,” Keith ordered in a hiss. They were a mass of black and white under suits, Lance’s noticeably slimming for under armor. His was the only suit that didn’t cover the entirety of his limbs. The pants ended on his thighs where his armor began, and no sleeves were present despite a high neck that only ended at the tip of his purple ear cuff.

 

“Duh,”  He said with only a glance to Keith. He had caught him staring, but did nothing beyond giving him a brief wink in his direction. “It’s more of a ‘keep up’ kind of situation.

 

“ - Go! - ” Allura shouted, the groups bursting into runs in all directions. In a tick Keith found himself vaulting over holographic blockades that, Lance explained as he methodically moved through his own set of varying obstacles,  _ will _ electrocute you.

 

“That’s way harder than our way of doing it,” Vivi huffed from far ahead. Keith was quickly catching up, hopping out of the way of a laser that slashed at him with a vengeance. “Who the hell came up with that?”

 

“I want to say Hedwidge because she likes to put us through pain for science, but I’m pretty sure this was Blaytz’s idea,” Lance wheezed as he slammed his hand to the ground in order to launch himself through a thin gap in front of him. “Considering how he knows how much we hated that maze.”

 

“That was a cruel training session, man,” Wyx muttered from Keith’s side. A near-naked Fiero burst through the end of the first obstacles, the other groups slowly figuring out that the obstacles were adjusted specifically to sear armor. Lance was the third to get through, quick behind Vivi, everyone turning to motivate the remaining Xenomora and Elyria, who were either too clumsy or took up too much space.

 

“That’s because you weren’t listening to me,” Ryl snapped. The two went at it from there until Keith snapped at them to stop arguing. Vivi asked him if it was only okay when he bickered with Lance.

 

“Xenomora, go to your left, jump up an inch. Elyria, slide on the floor. Keep your arms above your head instead of folded around you,” Lance ordered.

 

“And from there zig-zag four times starting from the right, Xenomora,” Keith added, glancing to the other teams making quick progress. “Elyria, you should be in the clear.”

 

“Really?” She asked. She bolted forward, looking genuinely shocked when she didn’t get electrocuted. Xenomora followed suit, looking angry at herself. Because she was the last to get through the obstacles, he knew fully well. It was his job, Sheelo advised him through a voice call earlier, to praise his soldiers. Even if he didn’t want to.

“You did well, Xenomora,” Keith reassured her firmly. Her expression didn’t lesson, but she did start at him praising her. “Your specialty is in brute force. No need to beat yourself up over it.”

 

“Enough with your team bonding shit, we have to run,” Vivi said over her shoulder, already bursting into a run to the forest. Xenomora and Keith have to sprint to catch up. “If I'm assuming our color is where it is.”

 

“Oh, no, totally. The roar came from closer to the center, right?” Lance asked, Keith quick to keep pace with him. The Altean’s chest rose rhythmically as if this length of running and evasion of attack was normal for him. He could say with certainty that the Galra did not train this way.

 

“How the hell should I know? I’m not your sister.”

 

“It was near the center,” Keith confirmed.

 

“Thank you, Keith. Someone finally gets me.” Lance gave him a sincere smile that made Keith’s stomach drop and a sharp wince cross his face. He almost punched Melo just to get himself to stop . . . _feeling_.

 

 . . .

 

And then Fiero got a rock thrown at his ankle. 

 

He fell to the ground in a flurry of Altean curses as he falls face-first onto a branch, Lance’s eyes widened with some sort of realization as Sarpedon hauled him up to his feet. The soldier continued to go on about how this was it, he was dying, and to give his husband custody of his cat. Vivi had to remind him that he didn’t have a husband, to which Fiero winked at Sarpedon. 

 

Keith knew that Lance was proud without having to look at him as he surveyed the trees.

 

“Lance, this better not be what I think it is,” Vivi began, stopped dead in her tracks. Lance’s face was noticeably blank as Elyria got a one-on-one with a rock to her left eye. 

 

“It is exactly what you think. Gyrgan’s got rocks. How ya doin’ man?” He said to no one in particular, his head still faced the treeline. Movement showed that there was more than one person, but to note a heavier figure up above.

 

“Wonderful!” The yellow paladin responds from somewhere up above. His gruff voice sounds happy. 

 

“Good, good. You gonna resume assaulting us?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Alright, then. Any time’s good.”

 

“Lance, you son of a Weblum -” Xenomora began with her threateningly rumbling voice, just in time for the rock assault to continue in a pelting rain. By this time Keith and Lance were already dashing away, pure fear in their eyes with Elyria dragged between them until she got her footing.

 

Lance proposed a game. Whoever screams in pain first loses, and has to pay for the entire group’s undersuit repairs. Keith took it with a competitive fire burning deep in him, far above the weird feelings that Lance’s smiles made him feel. So he was silent with Lance as the occasional rock struck them.

 

The rock pelting soon turned into unnerving silence. Keith’s breath was ragged by that point, and he fell back into step with Vivi. She was breathing heavily, posture stating everything but exhaustion. This was a routine for her. Melo was nearby, his breathing ragged. He muttered something about a break.

 

“So,” Vivi said.

 

“So.”

 

“You like Lance’s undersuit?”

 

Keith choked on thin air. A grin crossed her lips. “Wha-”

 

“Figured so.” Her green eyes stared sideways at him, hands crossed behind her head. “He’d be a danger to us all if we didn’t have to watch him eat a molten rock in Allura’s undergarments, a face mask, and King Alfor’s slippers.”

 

He snorted. The mere thought of that was hilarious enough without context. And an excuse to evade the interrogation of his physical attraction to Lance. Other than that bugging fact, he mostly wanted to slam that brat into the ground. Competitively. “Endurance training?”

 

“Nope, Allura said he wouldn’t do it.”

 

So he did it anyway. Out of spite. Keith could respect that, although Galra organs weren’t built to survive the same instances as Alteans. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t do the same thing under similar context. “Don’t forget that time he had to confiscate official papers and ended up coming back to us in a ball gown and a wig,” Elyria added from further ahead. Lance didn’t seem to be listening, a hand holding his spear tightly, and on guard. Keith was the same with the exception he could multitask. 

 

“Can’t beat the shit Keith does when he thinks no one’s looking,” Melo said. A glare from him had his soldier biting on his tongue and withholding information from a begging Vivi.

 

“Everyone shut up, we can blackmail each other later,” Lance snapped from up ahead. The Alteans froze instantly at that. Fiero even stopped talking to a very flustered Sarpedon. Which mostly made Keith question just how much his soldiers trust him. His ears twitched.

 

The forest was quiet.

 

“We’re safe. Keep moving on,” He urged to Lance.

 

“We’re not. Someone’s nearby,” He insisted, a lethality to his brilliant blue eyes. The fact that he didn’t know whether or not it was a true lethality terrified Keith. 

 

No man should be able to pretend to that extent. 

  
  


Allura dropping out of the trees with her staff wasn’t what either of them expected. “Holy quiznak - ” Ryl had barely managed before she was body-slamming him to the floor.

 

“I thought you were with Hedwidge!” Vivi cried as the princess lunged to Lance, his spear twisted at a painful angle to block her strikes.

 

A mysterious green goop hit Sarpedon square in the face. Wyx broke into laughter before the goo was launched straight into his open mouth, eyes widening. Xenomora let loose a wild war-cry, charging at a tree blindly with green goo impaired vision. Keith stopped her with a single hand before moving into the extreme sibling rivalry.

 

Lance was on the floor, the butt of Allura’s staff digging into his face. “You weren’t supposed to be put in the forest.” He groaned in pain much to the princess’s delight. He kicked her back to get only a deadpanned look.

 

“We aren’t. Just visiting,” Allura said before she got the hilt-end of Keith’s sword pummelled into her ribs. She got thrown to the side where Elyria and Melo pinned her to the ground. The goo still rained down in terrifying bursts, now less threatening now that Ryl informed them that it was edible. Keith held a hand out to Lance.

 

“Tell me again how you’re the commander of your kingdom’s guard?”

 

Lance glared at him. “Shut up.”

 

He took his hand anyway.

  
  
  
  


Team Purple was then running through the forest from the looming fear of Allura coming back with a vengeance, and Coran with what the Alteans disdainfully explained to be ‘food goo’. Occasionally an obstacle would form without any warning, causing everyone to have to jump, drop to the floor, or outrun a bright blue demon. Needless to say, Keith was panting before they could even reach the center of the forest. Lance was in far better shape despite the burns on his arms.

 

“Obstacle!” Fiero shrieked from far behind, Sarpedon ducking just in time for part of his fur to singe by a speeding pole, and Melo to get part of his exposed skin seared. Keith quickly realized that a wall was moving towards them. At an alarming speed. Lance had noticed it at the same time, already quick to pull Keith against him.

 

“I won’t use this for blackmail if you don’t,” the Altean said in a low voice, his arms still wrapped around Keith’s waist securely. 

 

“Deal.” 

 

Vivi let out an unearthly scream as an obstacle seared her cheek. Lance winced at the sound, part of his hair scraping the edge of their confined space as the wall passed. Keith bit back a scream of pain as the wall barely skims over his shoulder blades.

 

“The infirmary’s going to be filled to the brim at this rate,” Lance muttered through gritted teeth as he stared down at the burns and scrapes littered across his body. A bruise was forming on half of his face where Allura had slammed his head to the ground. Keith tried to not think about how tight Lance’s undersuit was. Arguably, Lance didn’t.

 

“Lance?” Keith asked. Those blue eyes stared at him questioningly as the group raced on as the glowing blue evil dissipated. A younger Galra stumbled into their path, obviously haggard. And covered in food goo. She took one look at Keith and took off running. They continued on. “If Allura can beat you so easily in combat, why doesn’t she lead the training?”

 

He almost looked hurt for a moment. Keith felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment, regretting that he asked such a question. Then a wry smile crept across his lips. His eyes were the opposite. Tender. Reminiscent. “Allura gets the love of the people. It was never really a . . . debate on who would succeed our father. So I-” Lance cut himself off with a glance to Vivi and Fiero, who were walking with their arms around each other.  _ So he formed the guard of Altea _ . Vivi’s green marking was pressed against the dusty hair of Fiero. Both of them were grinning with so much fondness and joy despite one of them being half-naked. Keith doesn’t have to look back at Lance to know that the same fondness was still in his eyes. He wanted to know that fondness first hand. He thought he was getting to know it when Lance’s eyes suddenly brightened, a grin breaking his rather deprecating smile.

 

And Keith found himself smiling, too, when they first caught sight of the Blue Lion.

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

☽ ♛ ☾

 

 

 

 

 

Lance could think of a million ways to have first shown Keith the Red and Blue Lions. Some horrifyingly romantic (which, Blaytz said, was a true sign that he did something good as his ‘second father’), and others mediocre at most. 

 

One of them, however, was most definitely  _ not _ having the poor guy nearly run into Alfor’s Bayard. Keith’s eyes widened with shock, ears flicking for a split second. Then his leg is colliding with the Bayard, his body spinning to the other side of it. He was already brandishing his sword the moment he landed, yellow eyes focused and narrowed. 

 

“Alfor! Why did you run ahead!” A familiar voice called desperately. “We were supposed to ambush them together!” Lance cracked a grin. Elyria made a comment about covering up Fiero. He reassured her that he wasn’t the Paladin's type without any sort of hurt tone. Xenomora was already sizing up and approaching Blaytz, who appeared around the corner soon enough. He took in the group quickly, then sighed in what might have been accepted. Alfor and Keith were still going at it, Wyx and Ryl stepping in to help and bickering all the while. Lance and Blaytz had a quick silent conversation entirely consisting of wild gestures and eyebrow movements. 

 

A solemn nod was exchanged before they charged.

 

Xenomora and Elyria were following quickly behind Lance, who threw open his spear in a quick movement. The spearhead sparks to life at the push of a button. He saw the helmet strapped to his mentor’s hip, giving a glance to Vivi, Melo, Sarpedon, and a flirting Fiero. She gave him a grin to know that the objective was clear. You would have to be an idiot to not know that Blaytz was primarily aquatic. Breathing helmets were unnecessary. “So. How many teams did you run into?” Lance asked as his spear met Blaytz’s halberd.

 

“Only one. Gave up cursing after we beat their asses to the ground,” He easily answered, jabbing his weapon forward and arching it to the side. Lance ducked. Xenomora tried to bend the blade with her bare hands. Elyria was too short to get caught by the blade.

 

“Younger batch?”

 

“Younger batch.” Lance jabbed at Blaytz’s ankle. “Care to explain why Fiero isn’t wearing his undersuit?”

 

“He’s an idiot that, as of now, is preying after a poor whelp who didn’t ask for any of this. And forgot his undersuit in his room,” Elyria chirped. Xenomora lifted her tiny frame with a sudden idea. The small Altean kicked him in the gills. He coughed. 

 

“Really? What’s with you guys and going after Galra?” Blaytz asked with a smirk to Lance. He took a brief look at the lake instead of meeting his gaze. It was mostly an orange liquid that always terrified Lance. On either side of the lake were the red and blue lions. Clever, he thought.

 

“You’re one to talk, mister ‘pull up a bench’.” 

 

Blaytz cursed. “I’ll have to talk to Coran later about giving you blackmail via backstory.”

 

“He doesn’t consider it blackmail,” Lance said confidently. He pressed a button on his spear, pointing the blunt end to his poor friend’s face. A light bore into his face just in time for Vivi to dive for the helmet. Blaytz stumbled back, pressing his hands to his eyes. “Keith! You alright for a bit?”

 

“I’m holding up!” The galra shouted from nearby. He was, in fact, not.

 

“Good! Fiero, stop flirting with Sarpedon!” The two sprung apart. Blaytz was now trained on Sarpedon, which made Lance regret calling them by name. Hedwidge had given the paladins a list of all of the soldier’s known qualities and weaknesses. Sarpedon’s sly way of fighting was included in that list.

 

He decided to regret that later. Bolting forward he took the helmet Vivi held out, slamming it onto his head as his feet dug into the ground. Behind him, he heard the three bystanders take his place. In front of him, obstacles formed, blue spears shooting from all directions. Somewhere across the lake an Altean got shocked by their challenge and screamed. 

 

So his chances of winning were pretty good, he’d say.

 

Lance quickly reached the blue lion, having only been shocked three times. He was positive it was Hedwidge exacting revenge for allowing Vivi to be shocked so many times. “Hey there, you beautiful giant. Don’t mind me,” He said to no one in particular as he began to climb up the size of it. “I’m just trying to win myself a competition to here. Ain't a commander if I can’t beat the shit out of my soldiers, right?”

 

There was no response. Of course, he knew this from the moment he’d been exposed to the lions. It didn’t stop him from talking to them, though. He thought that they would enjoy outside conversation that isn’t exclusive to their paladins.

 

Lance loved being at the top of things. The castle, trees (often with injury), and the Blue Lion were his favorites. He wanted to stay longer, take off his helmet and lay back to enjoy the beautiful weather and the cool metal of the head of the lion. 

 

However a peaceful break atop the lion wasn’t in his schedule, so he raced across the broad head of the lion and threw himself over the edge with his hands above his head. And he dove down, down down, with bubbles encasing his sight. When it cleared he shoved past luminescent seaweed, his burns singing in pain. He hissed in pain as the acidic properties of this orange lake dug into his open skin. Lance swam faster.

 

At the bottom of the lake, there’s a formation of colorful corals and algae. A purple glow stuck out between two coral fixtures at the top. Lance dug around inside until the familiar silky feeling of the luminescent fabric. He decided to strangle Keith with it later.

 

 

 

 

 

“Holy  _ shit _ ,” Lance yelled the moment he had gotten back to his team, new burns against his skin and a small acid burn forming on his ankle. “No one ever goes into that lake again today. Pops, do you hate us or something?” He asked Alfor, who was now swordless and currently being sat on by Xenomora and Keith.

 

“Blaytz,” He simply said. Lance’s aquatic mentor looked taken aback. He thought him to have put a hand on his chest in offense if he wasn’t tied to a tree with Sarpedon innocently sitting crossed-legged beside him. The rope in his lap said otherwise. 

 

“It wasn’t me! Don’t pin that on me just because you want to keep Allura from your kid’s wrath!” Blaytz cried.

 

“Allura did it?”

 

“Shit.”   
  


“Now look what you’ve done.”

 

“Keith, can we pay her a visit later?”

 

“Sure,” Keith shrugged. “But for now we should go and fuck with the other teams for a bit. Truce?” He glanced down to Alfor.

 

“If you promise to never do whatever the hell you did again, yes.”

 

“And if you put Sarpedon here on a leash,” Blaytz added with a nod to the perpetrator. “You weren’t kidding when you said he’s a slimy bastard.”

 

“It’s how he is,” Wyx explained simply with an affectionate pat on his comrade’s head.

 

“Nah, it’s how everyone from the slums are,” Melo added easily. “I mean have you  _ seen _ Thetos? Girl knows how to fight.”

 

“Is she in the army?” Elyria asked with curiosity. She had food goo on her swollen eye. 

 

“Uh . . . Xeno?”

 

“Yes, but not really. She runs the diplomacy missions,” The brutish Galra responded easily. Keith was currently removing her from Alfor’s chest, with minor struggles. The king let loose a deep sigh of relief.

 

Vivi untied Blaytz’s bonds with ease, talking to Melo about why Lance had come back screaming in pain and the acidic properties of the lake caused by the . . . ‘rain’ on Altea. This only made Keith look at him with a smug look. “I win,” He said with that fanged grin of his. Lance hated that grin. It frustrated him and made him feel things he didn’t want to feel for Keith. Friendship, sure. But he wasn’t feeling companionship when he saw that genuinely happy smile. Or when he caught Keith staring at him.

 

“Eat shit, kitty.”

 

“ _ Lance _ ,” Alfor snapped. 

 

He smiled sweetly at his father. 

 

“Rematch?” Keith proposed. He didn’t admit that he enjoyed competing against Lance.

 

“Whoever gets the most soldiers,” Lance responded. They didn’t shake on it. He gave his own toothy smile. Blaytz gave him a knowing look over Keith’s shoulder. Lance gestured vulgarly to him as a response. He only laughed.

 

“You guys can go on ahead,” Lance said to his team. They nodded, Keith finally relenting Alfor’s Bayard back to him. He murmured something about how cool they were before wandering off with Melo. He was left alone with a rope burned Blaytz and Alfor.

 

“He’s a good boy,” Alfor said after a long while. “Strong, too.”

 

“Lance loves him a guy that can kick his ass,” Blaytz chuckled. He was less tense, as usual. Lance was currently the opposite.

 

“Can we . . . not talk about this?” He muttered with a visible wince. If they had started with that conversation solely to make Lance uncomfortable, they had quickly succeeded without a sign of error.

 

“Why not? You flirt with him every chance you get.”

 

“Because I don’t like that I genuinely enjoy his company. I thought I’d get tired of him in . . . Y’know, a day. Longer than the last one, of course, since he was pretty tolerable. I don’t know. But it isn’t whatever the hell you two think.”

 

“You don’t know anything, Lance,” Alfor said with a small smile as he pat his son’s shoulder. “Just let your life take its course.”

 

“Yeah,” Blaytz said as he rubbed viciously into Lance’s white hair. “Roll with it. But a word of advice? Don’t kill yourself trying to impress him.”

 

“I’m not trying to impress him! It’s a dominance thing. You know this.”

 

Blaytz laughed. He shoved Lance in the direction of his group with a sturdy pat on the back. “Sure, little dude. Keep telling yourself that. See you tomorrow, alright?”

 

Okay, maybe Lance was trying to impress him. Or just beat him at his own game. He didn’t know. It was a problem for later. The problem of now was betraying his own soldiers in a lie called ‘assessing your teamwork’. 

 

He was in one of the towering trees in no time, feet carrying him with confidence across every pink branch. Keith was across from him, a grin on his lips. Lance had tied the glowing banner around his waist. 

 

Arguments from down below made them both stop dead in their tracks. Keith looked at him across from the trees, and he looked back at him with an affirmative nod. Swords and spears were taken from their sheaths.

 

Keith dropped first. An altean screamed, Vivi stifling laughter behind Lance as he sat down on the branch. He pointed the butt of his spear to a Galra soldier barely visible. A blue light bubbled at the end in a similar fashion to how Blaytz had been temporarily blinded, a trigger unfolding from a panel. He took one deep breath before firing, allowing the recoil to push him back off the branch. He smacked a few of his soldiers with his spear on the way down to an upside-down position, spinning it in both hands. Keith was already engaged with some of his own men nearby, his eyes glinting with a strange happiness. 

 

Lance was then inches away from Klyran’s cockily grinning face and flaming red hair. In his hands were two battle axes. “Quiznak,” He muttered before dropping from the branch. “Viv!” He called, steadying himself before the spearhead flickered to life at the end of his staff. 

 

“To the blessed Cosmos, no. This is your problem, man.”

 

“You’re  _ so _ helpful!” 

 

Klyran glanced down to Lance’s waist. “You got your banner already.”

 

“What else do you expect from me, your perfect commander?” Lance says with a grin, placing a hand on his collarbones.

 

“Second place.”

 

That was it. Lance was going to beat this cocky little shit into the quiznaking  _ ground _ .    
  


His spear met an ax, both bursting away. Sarpedon had already tied one of his comrades to a tree, her shouted profanities at him as she thrashed around in the air quickly proved amusing to Wyx and Ryl. 

 

Ultimately, Keith was the one to get Klyran crashing to the ground. He at least gave Lance the privilege to put his foot on his chest in triumph and get the last word. “Second place would fit your team far better, honestly,” He said thoughtfully. Klyran spat on his foot.

 

“You wouldn’t be able to win without your boyfriend over there saving your ass,” He childishly taunted. As if it would embarrass Lance. It did, in retrospect, but he didn’t dare let it show. Not in front of Keith.

 

“It’s called working as a team,” Keith spat back. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were angry. Not at the taunt, Lance duly seemed to process. It was something else. “Which yours obviously didn’t achieve. You can tell Raylond that the Purple team kicked all twenty-six of your asses, yeah?”

 

“Oh,” Lance said. A blissful smile was on his lips. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind- why he didn’t hate Keith at this point and why, despite their competitions, they still managed to somewhat lead the team. Even if Lance did most of the leading while Keith got distracted. It made sense now. “We do make a good team, don’t we?”

 

And much to Lance’s dismay, Keith’s anger vanished in that instant, and he smiled back.

 

“Yeah. We do.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Team Purple took first place, no surprise,” Trigel announced to the soldiers now strewn across the floor in exhaustion. Fiero was all but collapsing into Sarpedon, Vivi having a salve rubbed on her wounds by the tender hands of Hedwidge. Melo was telling Wyx and Ryl to stop arguing for one goddamn tick or he would throw them to the Nebulas. Xenomora was being held up by Elyria, which Lance couldn’t help but giggle at

 

“So much strength in such a tiny body,” Keith muttered from where he stood. It only made Lance laugh harder. He wasn’t supposed to find it funny. Keith was, in fact, being entirely serious.

 

“And team Pink took second! Unfortunately, no one came in third. Nor were there any ties.” Cheers came from the floor. Lance spotted an Altean-Galra dog-pile of soldiers covered in burns. Their armor was broken to a point where Lance was amazed they were still held together. He gave a smirking grin to Keith, who only reminded him of how he had lost their first little 'competition'. The second was a tie. 

 

“Really? What about team Red?” Allura asked next to a goo-covered Alfor and Coran. She only had a smudge of it on her cheek. Lance didn't have to give them a questioning look to know exactly who and why they were covered in food goo.

 

“Disqualified. They left one of their members tied to a tree and ended up splitting up with one finding the banner. Not as a team.”

 

“Klyran?”

 

“At the bottom of a ditch,” Hedwidge muttered. “Teammate shoved him in when they got pissed.”

 

Everyone turned to Keith. He nodded in what seemed to be resignation. “That was my soldier. I’ll talk to him.”

 

“And by talk,” Lance clarified,” He means yell at him mercilessly. I, on the other hand, will be giving this soldier a high-five.” Alfor and Allura gave him a look. “Fine. A stern talking to.”

 

He had his fingers crossed behind his back. Keith had to hide his grin behind a hand.

 

 

 

 

 

  
A few Vargas later Lance was out of the cryo-pod. He stumbled out with a hate for the world, which was better than Sarpedon. He was walking into a wall. Keith emerged a tick after him, looking as equally bitter as he was. 

 

“Everything hurts,” Keith grumbled.

 

“Everything hurts,” Lance confirmed.

 

“I want to eat.”

 

“I want to see my mom.”

 

“She’s in the dining hall with father,” Allura said from the controls. Everyone’s vitals were on the screen, constantly shifting as soldiers fell out and stumbled in. According to her screen, the Galra didn't physically enjoy Lance's favored childhood game put on steroids. Coran was helping those who couldn’t find their footing. “She’s very sad she wasn’t invited to ‘make the game fun’.”

 

“When I want my soldiers to die I'll go to mom. Remember to have Hedwidge take your place in a bit,” He reminded her as he passed, making sure to ruffle her already messy hair. “And Coran, I’m sure you can get Raylond to take over for you.”

 

“I’ll be fine!” The cherry advisor chirped. It helped raise Lance’s mood just a bit. Keith, on the other hand, was not improving in a bit. He said something about everything being too loud.

 

“Keith, cmon.” Lance began to shove Keith out the door ahead of him, purple claws gripping the doorway.

 

“Why.”

 

“To eat, you quiznaking idiot. And to see my mom. She wanted to meet you. Two birds with one Teludav.”

 

“ . . . Is there meat pie?”

 

“Yes, there’s meat pie.”

 

“Thank the cosmos. Take me away, Lance,” Keith said, all but collapsing back into him. He was shoved away willingly by Lance. Both of them didn’t bother to change out of their torn under suits, only Lance now had his leg armor on in fear of her mother chastising him for not protecting his legs. of all things.

 

And much to his disbelief- he could have sworn he heard Allura laugh as they left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! When chapters at this length are in production it means that I end up taking longer to write, edit, and get the input from my beta reader (love you boo)! Thank you for understanding! In other news, I'm going to let you guys know that I'm currently compiling a playlist for each chapter with songs that inspired them, which is mostly me realizing I listen to certain artists a little too much.


	4. Cygnus

The yellow Paladin is a human (though Lance doesn’t know what humans are  _ exactly _ \- other than the fact that their ears are rather charming) named Hunk. He’s extremely vague on  _ why _ exactly he’s here, only informing Lance that he’s here to get the Blue Lion. To reassure him that he isn’t with the Galra Empire he tells him that they work for Altea’s cause. His vagueness doesn’t make Lance trust him any less- he hadn't given the poor paladin his name, after all. It entirely slipped his mind.

 

“How would you know that it’s here?” He asks from where he now sits with crossed legs, backup logs from what he now knows to be the Apocrypha Research Facility strewn around him. He decides to watch them later when he gets  _ something _ in this damn place to work.

 

“Tracking,” Hunk says simply. He proceeds to insist on helping Lance gather the backlogs silently. “But we didn’t calculate . . . _You_.” His phrasing on this is very careful, though his appearance as a new paladin, in general, confirms both his true implications of the sentence and his own budding worries.

 

They didn’t calculate an Altean to be alive. 

 

“I have been told that I’m very surprising,” Lance agrees in a hushed voice. “Makes for a better fighter.”

 

“Do you mind if I ask a question?”

 

“Shoot.”

 

“Why  _ are _ you here?”

 

He hesitates. Takes a split tick to calculate what he allows himself to reveal and what not to reveal. The same calculation constantly circling through Hunk’s friendly mind. “I was damaged in battle and fell unconscious. I . . . like to believe that a friend of mine put us here to keep us safe.”  _ It makes things more bearable _ . Now that, he does not say. Nor does he mention Keith by name. As much as being near Hunk makes him compelled to do exactly that. So he continues on with different information. “She was a researcher for foreign planets. I think she requested this facility some time ago and it entirely slipped my mind.”

 

Hunk nods along, seeming to be hanging on to every word Lance says. “The two of you must have been good friends if she’d be willing to do that for you.”

 

“I guess. Let’s go look for the lion,” Lance says, turning the subject nearly inside out to avoid speaking of the people he is now convinced to be dead. “So that you can get on your way.”

  
  
  
  
  


“So. You’re the new Yellow Paladin. How did _that_ happen?” Lance asks as the two walk down now-lit halls. Hunk looks wary at any sound, any movement. Which was a given, he thinks, anyone would be in an unfamiliar land void of life save for the sole person that is Lance. “I want to know everything you can tell me.”

 

“Well - Uh… It isn’t very interesting...”

 

“The first paladins got chosen by their lions without any squabbling or doubt that this was their lion. I’m sure anything’s more exciting.”

 

“Well you see, my friend Pidge had dragged me out to this abandoned shack in the desert for God knows what a couple weeks ago,” Hunk immediately begins. He gestures wildly and speaks animatedly.  “and every time we went there I felt this weird pull, and earlier we found something crashing into the Garrison from Space and at first we were hesitant, you know? But Pidge forced me to go saying something about his research. We found this guy named Shiro- real cool dude, went missing a few years back- and Pidge was going nuts at this point insisting we take him to the shack and Shiro’s gaining consciousness around this point, mumbling incoherent words. When we got back to the shack I went out to get my thoughts together and just-”

 

“Followed the pull,” Lance finishes. Unease is settling in the pit of his stomach as the sorrowful  pull in his heart tugs again and again to the hangar. He refuses to connect the two, insisting that Blaytz is alive out there. He couldn’t die. He's  _ Blaytz _ for Cosmos’ sake. And if he did- why would Blue want  _ him _ ?

 

“Yeah! Just like that! It was like a really intense game of hot and cold, really. And next thing you know we’re all crammed into the cockpit and Shiro looks like he needs a nap and some good food and the Lion just . . . takes us away.”

 

“Sounds eventful.”

 

“Oh, yeah, it was a blast trying not to throw up on the control panel.”

 

Lance doesn't think Hunk intended for this to be funny. Yet he laughs, uncontrolled and obnoxiously loud.

 

A comfortable silence then falls over the two.

 

“Did you find the rest of the Lions yet?” Lance asks and immediately regrets this the moment the words leave his lips. No one but Alfor, Allura, and a select few knew that the Lions had to be hidden. Not even Vivi knew.

 

A distant cheer erupts from the other end in Hunk’s communicator. Lance hears it for a split second in his right ear before tearing off his ear cuff with a wince, pressing a hand to his ear. Hunk flinches with enough time for Lance to hide his ear cuff behind clasped hands. “Sounds like we just found the Green lion,” Hunk informs him. He doesn’t say anything else. Lance hopes the Black Lion isn’t under Zarkon’s control.

 

“Thank you, Hunk, for pointing out the obvious.”

  
  
  


At the entrance to the hangar, Lance insists Hunk goes on ahead. He faces the crossroads of accepting the possibility that Blaytz may be out of action, or denying it and leaving Hunk to do the work alone. The sound of water moving all around the facility seems louder now, the pull in his heart much stronger than his unease. He groans, dramatically collapses against the door frame though no one is there to witness it, then finally, with a deep breath, decides to follow the Yellow Paladin.

 

Blue is in the lowest part of the hangar that Lance didn’t dare to explore. She sits with dull eyes and her particle barrier keeping a begging (and somewhat electrocuted) Hunk away. Lance stands just behind him, a hand on his hips. He doesn’t look up at her. “Having trouble?” He asks.

 

“Yes,” Hunk groan-sobs. He slumps to the ground in defeat, looking up at a bemused Lance.

 

“Did you try saying please?”

 

“Yup. And a knock-knock joke.”

 

“Damn, she isn’t playing around this time. Last time she locked someone out they got in with a ‘why did the Weblum cross the road’ joke.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Hunk says with a dramatic sob. “It’s gotta know the situation we’re in.”

 

“She,” Lance corrects simply.

 

“What?”

 

“Blue’s a she.”

 

Hunk remains silent for a while.

 

“Try and get her to open up, then.”

 

“I . . . don’t think she will.”

 

“I’ll turn around,” he says, promptly doing such, “and plug my ears.” His pinkies jam themselves into his charming ears, legs folded over one another. He starts to hum to himself.

 

It was his way of saying that Hunk wasn’t giving Lance much of a choice. There wasn’t one in the first place, he reasons with himself as he takes a hesitant step to the particle barrier. It wasn’t like they could get Yellow in here and have her pry into her barrier. 

 

“Hey, Blue,” Lance murmurs in a weak and breaking voice. He hesitates to look up at her for a moment. When he does, all he feels is a deep sorrow too heavy to belong to one person. Does Hunk feel Yellow’s sorrow? Her mourning? “I know you miss him. I do too. And I know, better than anyone, that you’d rather have him pilot you than me. But this doesn’t mean that you can just throw away the universe to mourn. So . . . Please let me in. Even if it’s just this once.”

 

Lance begs and hopes that she shuts him out like she did Hunk.

 

Instead, her barrier progressively retreats and he feels the tears spilling over. He manages a weak ‘no’. A silent plea for her to seek out anyone other than him. Part of him had hoped to be proven wrong- that he was still alive somewhere in the galaxy. Hunk, on the other hand, seems ecstatic. He’s cheering and whooping for a quick second, moving to congratulate Lance before freezing all together with a hand over his shoulder. His eyes are questioning. Lance shakes his head slowly, shaking hands rubbing at his bare skin. A scar up his right forearm marks an injury he can only vaguely recall getting the night he was put to sleep. The most vivid part of that memory was Keith being the reason it’s there.

 

Soldiers do not make themselves vulnerable in front of others. He hears Keith muttering that to himself so many moons ago. Lance can't fathom why he can still vividly recall that conversation.

 

By the loophole Lance had found in Keith’s mindset, he wasn’t a soldier right now. He was Lance, the Altean who could repress his emotions just as easily as he could let them spill over. 

 

“Okay,” Hunk says quietly as Lance refuses to meet his gaze. “I won’t ask.” But he does wrap strong arms around him, tender and comforting all the same. It reminds him of his mother’s hugs, oddly enough. She gave them to the entire family before missions, after missions, and just because she adored them. Keith’s first hug was historical to the three of them.

 

So he pretends it’s her.

  
  
  
  
  


“This . . . Is going to sound selfish,” Lance begins when he manages to calm himself down. “But I can’t go with you. Because I- oh, hell, explaining it only makes me look like even more of a Weblum. Just come with me, Hunk,” He decides with a stubborn exhale, marching out of that hangar with a damn purpose. Showing, in this case, is far better than telling. Even if it meant Hunk piecing together the shattered fragments of information that leads back to his position in the royal family.

  
  
  
  
  


The infirmary door slides open with a quickly typed passcode. Lance takes one look at Keith and gets the sudden urge to cover his face. Because, for a split second, he forgot that Hunk isn’t aware of what Keith did for Altea on the last night Lance has any recollection of. But he doesn’t scrunch his face up in disgust. Only follows Lance closer to the cryo-pod.

 

“He’s still in stasis,” Lance murmurs. “If the Galra manage to track you to this point using Yellow I don’t know what would happen to him. So I have to keep him safe. It’s the _Least_  I can do to repay him.”

 

“Stasis?”

 

“It’s the technical term for cryo-sleep, except the Altean is put to rest before being placed in the cryo-pod. Not a very tested research, I’ll tell you that. Only these cryo-pods and the cryo-pods in the Castle of Lions were functioning. But these are prototypes for something greater, I can tell.”

 

“That’s why you don’t remember going here,” Hunk says as if the secrets of the unknown universe were just revealed to him, eyes sparkling. Lance smiles weakly.

 

“Sure, Hunk. Let’s go with that. But you understand why I can’t leave him, right?”

 

“Not . . . exactly? He isn’t someone important.” He hesitates, glancing from Keith to Lance. “Is he?”

 

“Oh, yeah.” Lance laughs, a hand resting on the cold surface of the cryo-pod, “Totally important. Before we were put to rest he was the second highest ranked commander. Even then- he sided with us. He didn’t care if it was going to get him killed. Such an idiot, right?”

 

. . .

 

“Do you love him?”

 

Lance struggles to form a response for a split tick. No, he wants to say, I’m infatuated with him in every aspect. The way he leads when his head’s in the right place, his black hair that serves as the only indicator that he isn’t entirely Galra (even if Vivi insisted it was his height, Hedwidge his more Altean features), the way he talks to Lance when no one else is around, the looks entirely reserved for him. Instead, he gives Hunk the short response with his forehead pressed against the cold glass and a  subconscious smile on his lips. “Yes,” He murmurs. “More than anything.”

 

“Then come with us.”

 

“Excuse me?” Lance’s head shoots up and he prepares himself to snap back at him, only to see Hunk not looking stern at all.

 

“You want to keep him safe until he wakes up, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“Then you can help us protect the universe until then. If we stir up trouble, the Galra will be too busy trying to defeat us to even think about the possibility of him being here.”

 

It made sense. But . . . He doesn’t want to leave Keith alone. If he woke up and saw Lance missing he would assume the worst. He didn’t want that. Hunk seems to take note of this and, with a hopeful look on his face, gives one last convincing point.

 

“And maybe we can get Pidge to hook his stats up to the castle?”

 

It was enough for Lance for now.

  
  
  
  


Pidge instructs Lance how to hook up Keith’s status report to the Castle mainframe- Lance still doesn’t know what the name of the castle is through Hunk’s helmet, despite Lance insisting he was fine without it. The look on Hunk’s grinning face is enough for him to sigh in resignation and pocket his ear cuff beside Keith’s dagger.

 

And then it was time to leave. Hunk waits for him patiently as Lance tears himself away with a whispered promise to come back for him when the time came.

 

As per usual, Keith didn’t reply.

 

“Really dude, thank you for coming with us. It means a lot,” Hunk was saying for about the sixth time as the wormhole formed in front of them. He was grinning broadly in the video connection of the lions.

 

“I can’t protect him if there isn’t a universe to protect him in,” Is the mumbled response from Lance. Despite the sorrow in his heart that he can confirm is now entirely his own, everything about Blue felt natural. As if Blaytz hadn’t died and was just letting him take her out for a spin. He eases her through the wormhole.

 

“You’re right on that. Oh! Pidge! Shiro!” Hunk is suddenly cheering, his lion clumsily bolting forward. The Green Lion seems to be in a similar state, moving with clumsy precision. You can tell he’s getting a feel for her. Pidge’s childish face appears beside Hunk’s, a man with old soldier eyes squinting next to him. Shiro. Lance doesn’t dare to think of who he reminds him of. “Look! I got us a new paladin!”

 

“You what?” The two ask in unison.

 

“No need to act surprised, boys, it’s nothin,” Lance purrs with a grin. Pidge looks rather unimpressed. He averts his attention away from their faces just in time to see the very Castle of Lions. He had thought that with the rest of Altea’s fleet, the castle had perished. How happy he was to be proven wrong- that some key part of his home was still in tact. With his jaw still slack in awe, he can only blink slowly as a familiar voice tinged with exhaustion pops into the system. Her video feed blocks most of his vision.

 

“Hunk, as proud as I am to know this you can’t just pick up any old alien and let them - ” Allura stops dead, her jaw hanging open as she blinks at Lance. And he blinks at her. Then she’s running off-screen and Lance is bursting forward with the other lions far behind and Coran is cry-cheering from the ground. 

 

Lance all but throws Blue into her hangar, but she doesn’t seem to complain all that much. He bounces out of her mouth, a grin across his face. A wobbly Hunk and Pidge soon follow, their confused conversations only background noise in his right ear. Allura comes bursting around a corner, white hair billowing all around her, a grin broad on her face and happy tears in the corners of her eyes. Coran, however, allows himself to cry freely. “Lance!” She cries. He almost doesn’t hear his own voice calling out her name.

 

Then Lance is enveloped in a tight hug that knocks the wind out of his lungs, his body lifted into the air. He can't feel his arms. Or his legs. With a tiny apology, she sets him back on the ground. “I thought- We thought-” She says, gesturing to Coran, “Oh, by the Cosmos, you’re alive. When Hunk told me that he saw an Altean I didn’t imagine - ”

 

“I thought that you were dead the moment I figured out what happened to everyone else. And Coran’s here too! Looking sharp as ever, man,” Lance says, his joy showing through every other feeling quelling inside him. Coran blushes. “But how did you - ”

 

Shiro coughs politely. Allura and Lance turn their heads to the three humans. “Are we missing something?” He asks. Allura straightens her back, still beaming. The mice scurry out from under Allura’s collar. Lance greets them with his index finger briefly. They squeak at him.

 

“Paladins, this is my brother, Lance. The Commander of the Altean guard. And, I suppose, the new blue paladin.”

 

Hunk seems to make a connection with the story Lance gave him of Keith, and the title Allura presents them with. “Oooooh,” He says. Then proceeds to keep his realization from the rest of the paladins. Good, Lance thought to himself. Don’t let them know of Keith. 

 

“So… he’s a prince?” Pidge asks, a plan forming in his mind. Lance doesn’t like it. His face scrunches up bitterly, Allura setting loose a genuine laugh at his question.

 

“Theoretically, yes. But the universe hasn’t known him as such since he was a child. So when we present ourselves to other nations currently under Zarkon’s control, he will be Commander Lance.”

 

“Or hot stuff. That doesn’t sound too bad.”

 

Coran is the only person to laugh at his joke. Nebulas bless Coran.

 

The paladins soon grow impatient, and Allura tells them to wait in the lounge until further instruction. Coran goes with them to keep them company. And possibly go over the history of the castle for about the thousandth time.

 

“Lance, forgive me if this abrupt, but is Keith - ?”

 

“No, no. You know I wouldn’t be like  . . . _this_ if he was. He seems to be in stasis on Apocrypha still.”

 

“Thank the cosmos,” she breathes in relief. “Then we won’t have to take the alternative path.”

 

Lance doesn’t ask what the alternative was.

 

“How long were we out?”

 

Allura hesitates. Her eyes skip around, looking at everything but Lance. He knows that the answer, whatever it is, will be crushing. “Nearly ten thousand years,” she eventually says.

 

“My soldiers-?”

 

She shakes her head. “We can only assume they went down fighting. I was unable to foresee the rest of the battle, including the period in which you were taken to Apocrypha.”

 

They did go down fighting, Lance thinks to himself. Vivi cheering over the comms echo in his head. It makes him proud, so far into the future. “We always did say we’d go out with a bang.”

 

“That’s quite an understatement,” Allura says, beginning to leave the room with Lance quick at her side. “Your training shaped Altea as a nation. Only now there’s no longer an Altea to shape.”

 

He grins at her, the terrifying confidence that hides everything he feels deep down returning. There is no Keith to command him to tell the truth. “No, my dear sister, it’s so much bigger than Altea. We can shape the universe, the two of us. But first, we gotta kick Galra ass, right?”

“Right. But before that, we have to get the Red Lion back from the Galra.”

 

“They’ll never know what hit ‘em.”

  
  
  
  
  


Lance insisted that only Allura be present when he switched out his commander’s armor for the Blue Paladin’s armor. It was a small thing, filled with a silent ceremony Lance never had the chance to carry out. He had planned on promoting Vivi and Fiero to commanders when the Galra attacked. He switched the empty armor container of the blue armor and black undersuit with his gold and white undersuit, only lacking a helmet. His bayard takes the shape of a blaster. Allura said something about his spear that barely reaches his ears.

 

“This doesn’t seem real,” Lance mutters to himself as he turns the helmet over in his hands. Blaytz hadn’t touched this helmet- these were the replacements. He knows this, but can’t shake the weird feeling that he shouldn’t be wearing his color. The Red Paladin armor remains in it’s case. Lance imagines Alfor in it, admiring the new design. It fades in a few painful ticks. “I always imagined what it’d be like to pilot Blue but I never imagined I’d . . .”

 

“Yes,” Allura says in a quiet voice. “I know. I didn’t either.”

 

“I don’t know whether to mourn or celebrate this.”

 

“Celebrate,” she says immediately. “Mourning is for when we have the time to heal from it.”

 

“I doubt we’ll ever heal.”

 

“Maybe not, Lance. But it’s better to pretend you have hope. Maybe one day you can trick yourself into believing that hope. Even if it’s a lie.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Getting into the Galra base was easier said than done. Thankfully, Shiro had offered to go and look for the Red Lion instead of back-seat piloting Blue. Lance was given the peace he needed to admire how dashing he looked in blue. Granted, it wasn’t as great as Blaytz looked in the color, but he took his dues wherever he could. And blew them to drastic proportions.

 

“What do you see?” Allura asks from her portrait on the left of Lance’s control panel.

 

“Sentries.”

 

“Aim for their ankles,” Lance says quickly. Blue stretches herself backward, and he takes out a ship headed for an unaware Hunk, who goes crashing into Pidge at the sight of the blast.

 

“Are you . . . Joking?”

 

“If I told you yes you wouldn’t listen to me. Now, where’s the fun in that?”

 

Allura, on the other hand, seems to be smiling fondly.

 

“Pidge, on your five,” Shiro says from the comm. Lance is unable to see him take out the attacker, too busy leaping over the ship to the other side, checking through any tiny windows. “Does anyone have an idea where Red might be?”

 

“No, but I do know that we could just . . . blow some holes in the ship.”

 

“Lance, no. That’s a terrible idea.” Allura sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

 

“We’ll need to do it eventually,” Lance says, seeming to bargain with her. The paladins are just surprised he’s even  _ trying _ to change her ideals. “So why not get it over with now?”

 

“It would take too much time-” Shiro begins before cutting himself off. A grunt and several screams come from his end. “Besides, it would only draw too much attention to us. And your chances of hitting me are too great.”

 

He’s right. Lance groans, leaning back in the seat. He digs Blue’s claws into the top of the ship, the sound of metal being torn away distant in his ears. She kicks off of the roof with an easy maneuver. Lance is almost positive that she’s doing most of the work for him at this point. “Pidge, go look for Red in the ship. I’ll protect Green for you.”

 

“I don’t think that’s - ”

 

“Shiro, do you want to get out of this faster or throw us to the dogs? Because at this rate there’s enough time for backup to arrive in time to beat out asses back to Arus. Even with your Galran arm, Pidge can still get through the vents.”

 

“I want to feel offended by that statement but I’m really not.”

 

“...How long will you be able to defend Green and fend off the Galra?”

 

“Long enough. I know how they fight. _They_ have long forgotten how _Altea_ fights. I’d say we have the upper hand right now.”

 

“I _still_ don’t think it’s a very good idea. The risk is too high”

 

“Shiro, I’m going. That’s final. I know you care about our safety and all that but I frankly don’t care all that much,” Pidge snaps. “I just want this to be over with.” In a few ticks, he’s exiting the mouth of Green, making a beeline for the hole Shiro entered through. Hunk warily gives his opinion, throwing him into an argument with Pidge.

 

This was not working as well as training with the Alteans and Keith went. 

  
  
  
  
  


Lance find a rhythm in blowing the galra to bits. He taps his fingers on the handles, and doesn’t even have to look to destroy them at this point. So he finds himself constantly checking Keith’s vitals, visible on the right panel. His heart beat is moving at two beats at a time, which Allura had only blinked at with some sort of knowing look back at the castle. His blood flow is normal, and he has no wounds. Ten thousand years in the healing pod would do that.

 

He has no signs of emerging from his cryo-pod anytime soon.

 

Lance shoots another Galra ship.

  
  
  
  


“I found it,” Pidge’s voice says over the comm. Allura is barely visible on the screen, currently helping Coran with repairs on the main controls. “Lance, Hunk, can you guys get to my location? I’m putting it into your maps. Shiro, you should get over here too.”

 

“Roger,” Lance and Hunk say in unison. Their lions go bolting to his location, Blue seeming excited about the new situation. Lance grins as the same adrenaline rushes through him. “I’m going to do something very stupid that will make Keith very proud of the impact he’s had on me.”

 

“Oh, Cosmos, no,” Allura says with wide eyes from where she now stands. “Lance don’t you _dare_ \- !”

 

Allura doesn’t speak fast enough, and Lance is crashing through the wall of a Galra ship. Blue slides across the floor of Red’s little prison, Pidge and Shiro shouting profanities as they dive out of his way. Hunk soon appears with Green in Yellow’s jaws. 

 

“Sorry! Didn’t expect you to be so close. Hurry up and get in, Shiro,” Lance chirps as Blue moves to let him in. “So we can finally blow this popsicle stand, yeah?”

 

“Agreed,” Pidge says, “There’s about twenty sentries following us, so we have to leave now.”

 

“Sounds lovely,” He comments. Shiro is now standing behind him, warily looking at Keith’s vitals. As if he didn’t notice that they were there before. “Hunk - ”  Lance turns to ask for Hunk to protect him, only to see that the Yellow lion is noticeably missing. “Where the hell are you?”

 

“Uh… I don’t… know? I think I got knocked back. Oof. and we’re spinning again. Not good. I think I'm going to - ”

 

Lance and Shiro sigh in unison as the distant sound of barfing reaches their ears.

 

“Just head back to the castle. We’ll meet you there,” Shiro says. Lance almost argues, instead biting his tongue and forcing himself to look at the dormant Red Lion in Blue’s jaws.

  
  
  
  
  


Eventually, Lance brings Red back to her hangar at the castle. Pidge is the only one waiting, Hunk having excused himself to go find food to eat. The small paladin seems to be working on repairs for his lion.

 

Lance ignores him and stands silently staring up at the Red lion for some time. His mind is muddled with every memory he has of his father and how much he adored Red and being a paladin. He thought it to be a wonderful privilege to be able to create Voltron.

 

“Thank you for leaving to help us,” Shiro says from somewhere behind Lance. He doesn’t turn to look at him.

 

“Who told you?” Lance hopes it isn't Hunk. Even if it was- he wouldn't blame him.

 

“The Princess.”

 

Lance narrowed his eyes. “She’s gotta stop doing that,” He mutters to himself.

 

“I just… I know what it’s like to have to leave someone behind without protection. And how hard it is to do that for the better of the universe.”

 

“He can protect himself.” Is all Lance responds with. He appreciates his sympathy, truly, but Shiro didn’t quite mask his pity towards him. Lance is undeserving of pity.

 

Shiro doesn’t speak any further.

  
  
  
  
  


Lance’s room in the Castle of Lions is beside Allura’s, as it was since the two were young. Neither of them ever expected the other to leave for a smaller room,  as they had their reasons for loving the luxurious sizes of their rooms . But when she sees him carrying a stack of clothes from a dusty closet, she doesn’t complain. Instead, she takes the rest of the items he had laid out and follows him to the new Paladins’ bedrooms. Part of him knows that she’s aware of just how much he’s avoiding facing what was lost ten thousand years ago. That part of him wants to tell her that he saw a congratulatory letter addressed to Fiero and signed by Keith and himself on the bed and cried silent tears.

 

The rest of him insists that he’s only staying here until Keith wakes up.

 

He nods his head in thanks to Allura, who now stands in the doorframe in her night dress. “You’re welcome,” She says, remaining with an eye on him. She glances briefly to the communicator charging in a port. “I’m glad the two of you are alive.”

 

“Even Keith?”

 

Allura laughs, before realizing his question is entirely serious. She sobers up immediately. She meets Lance’s blue eyes that seem almost hesitant, worrying what she will say entirely. He knows exactly what the Galra did to their people- to their father. Of course he would worry that she wouldn’t be able to forgive him for what his own race did.

 

“Yes. Even Keith. If it was someone I didn’t know quite as well, say one of the new paladins, I might not be so forgiving. The two of you made it _extremely_ obvious what the other meant to you.”

 

Lance sighs in relief as if the weight of a world is lifted off of his shoulders. He turns his attention away from Allura and to the Luxite dagger in his lap that glistens up at him. He wonders what the last moments of his soldiers were like. Did Fiero cry? Was Vivi able to spend it with Hedwidge? Did Klyran, Cosmos bless him, did Klyran find solace in the fact that Lance was out of battle before he could see it to the end? He supposes he’ll never know, now. The best case scenario would be Keith miraculously holding the answers he seeks. But Cosmos knows  _ when _ he’ll wake up. If he wakes up.

 

“And Lance?” His head whips back up to see Allura still in the doorway. Lingering. Her features are perfectly guarded, emotions hidden in a similar way with Lance, given that she could tell that he was fretting over something by his furrowed brows. “Don’t stay up too late. Coran and I want you all to be rested enough to defend the castle when the Galra attack. We don’t know when they’ll get here, but-”

 

“The castle’s defenses are too weak. I know. And I won’t. Today was… exhausting, in the lightest terms.”

 

“You can say that again.”

 

“Today was - ”

 

“Don’t _actually_ say it again, you cheeky little Klanmürl,” Allura says in her playfully threatening tone. Lance gives her a broad, shit-eating grin as he falls back onto his mattress, arms sprawled out. 

 

“G’night, Ally,” He chirps. A fond look crosses her eyes.

 

“Haven’t heard you call me that in deca-phoebs.”

 

Lance shrugs. “Guess I just wanted to bring it back.”

 

Her smile broadens by a smidge. Just enough for Lance’s body to be filled with a fuzzy feeling of bliss. Making Allura smile was one of his most favorite things to do, even if he never admits it.

 

“Good night, Lance,” She says, and leaves him alone, smiling at the ceiling. He’s at peace. Even if just for a moment, before his thoughts and worries of Keith catch up to him.

 

So he gets what sleep he can in an empty bed void of the most comforting presence he’d ever known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload! Had some problems with it. But I'm happy to announce that I'm going to try and make an effort to be more active on my tumblr! Follow me to stay updated in my life and shit!
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hekaerge-athenias


	5. Eridanus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that I have a Tumblr! For chapters that match up (like Cygnus and Eridanus), I'll be making art of certain scenes to represent it!  
> (Link to Cygnus; https://hekaerge-athenias.tumblr.com/post/164843990344/instead-her-barrier-progressively-retreats-and)

_**Nine thousand, Nine hundred and ninety-nine years ago (and eight months)** _

 

Seven months ago, Lance had woken up in a cold sweat, dreaming of Keith and his stupid pretty face. He knew that he had a crush then, and promptly went to scream from his balcony. Allura burst through the door in no time to tell him to ‘shut the fuck up’ before threatening to throw him over the ledge.

 

Six months ago, It had reached him that nearly everyone was surprised that Keith and Lance were still a functioning team, willing to work with each other. Even Coran and his mom, the two most supportive people in his life, were taken aback to see Keith and Lance chatting on the floor after practice.

 

Four months ago, Lance found a betting pool set up by Sarpedon on who would make the first move- Lance or Keith. He told them to keep it under tighter wraps around Keith. Vivi made a comment on how his vengeance should be starting a separate pool on whether or not Sarpedon was going to act on Fiero’s flirting.

 

He was happy to say that Lance was in the lead, and a majority of the Galra army say ‘yes’ on Sarpedon’s situation. They had gotten together soon after that, thanks to the united forces of Altean idiots and headstrong Galra.

 

Which led to this current time, with Lance being nudged awake by gentle hands. If it were Coran or Allura, he would have told them to give him five more minutes. But instead, he meets the bright blue eyes that match his own and the tender smile on her lips that Allura would never be able to conjure. Immediately his terrible mood melted away.“Good mornin’ mama. Who sent you this time?”

 

She laughed, a genuine and throaty thing that was one of the most beautiful things to Lance. Allura always thought otherwise. Lance raised a limp hand, placing it gently on the crook of his mom’s neck. The uneven surface of a scar shone a bright pink beneath his hand. According to her, you gain new marks across your body when it heals without the help of a cryo-pod. He always wanted his own scars to show proudly to the world. “Your father did. Wanted me to tell you that Sheelo should be arriving in the square. I think he considered sending Keith, but - “

 

She cut herself off, making strange hand gestures with no message. The pitiful look on her face was enough for Lance to gather the first bit of information on Keith he’s gotten since the bastard arrived. He was close with Sheelo.

 

That fact alone was astonishing.

  


Lance had forced Vivi, who had been waiting outside, to help him pick out an outfit. In minutes he had learned that the intricate braid going over her shoulder to show off the markings on her face was the work of Hedwidge in exchange for “information”. Immediately Lance was pressing her to know _what_ exactly she told her, and who was sold out for the sake of fashion. His immediate fear was of his feelings for Keith- not that Hedwidge would tease him like her partner, but of her slipping up and allowing the paladins in on his most important secret was _not_ preferable to him. But the way Vivi turned red and avoided meeting his eyes was enough for him to immediately release his grip on her and drop the subject entirely. It was a conversation for later. When his mother wasn’t standing nearby with an uncomfortable look on her face.

  
  
  


The square was bustling with Altean and Galra life. Vivi made it a point that Lance was going to be unable to shake her off. “I’m your bodyguard,” she insisted, hiking up her skirt to reveal her prized throwing knives, given to her by Trigel many deca-phoebs ago. She earned them through and through. Lance forced her skirt back into place, glaring crossly in her direction as he shoved through the cheery crowd. For the most part, only the soldiers parted for him, the people making a gaping path for the queen far behind him.

 

“I can protect myself, You’re Hedwidge’s bodyguard, more like,” Lance said as he roughly smacked a thieving Klyran upside the head. “Or are you more of her volunteer? Since you _do_ donate your body for scie - ”

 

“Don’t you dare go there, Lance. Or do you want me to march right up there and tell Keith _exactly_ what you want him to dominate you in besides combat?”

 

“I thought we agreed to not speak of that.”

 

Vivi grinned her wicked smile. “I had my fingers crossed.” A page from his own book.

 

“You son of a Weblum - ”

 

“That’s what you get for being too drunk around us, Lance,” She interrupted, placing a finger over his lips, “We take no prisoners and show no mercy.”

 

“And I want to be proud of you for that,” He said with a groan, finally reaching the center of the town square where a Galra ship was docked. “But I can’t when you’re using my own feelings against me.”

 

“Take pride in knowing that I’m better at keeping your secrets than Sarpedon.”

 

“Fiero can never be trusted with our personal information ever again,” Lance vowed. A month ago Lance had told Fiero and Vivi that he was going to mess with the galra units. They were too prepared when the time came, and Xenomora allowed it to slip that Sarpedon had warned them beforehand. “Just as _you_ can’t be trusted to leave Hedwidge’s alchemy station alone.”

 

“I want to create a potion that just burns through everything and anything. Widgie’s only got a problem with me burning through all her shit,” Vivi corrected, stealing Fiero’s sandwich in a brief as they stopped to stand beside the royal family. Lance theorized that he might have noticed his missing meal if he had stopped smashing faces with Sarpedon for a few ticks. Vivi grins, eyes trained to someone other than him. He saw Hedwidge pinching the bridge of her nose at the end of the gathered castle personnel. Lance never knew why her job earned her the privilege to stand beside Coran. Raylond, however, was an easy explanation. He stood silently next to Lance’s favorite (and only) advisor, missed by those who don’t have a keen eye. Alfor had appointed him as the head researcher of Altean life when Honerva moved to the team assigned to the anomaly. Lance had appointed him as the poor sap who the teams had to check in with for his electrifying training exercise months ago.

 

Vivi had a silent conversation with Hedwidge, entirely consisting of wild hand gestures, narrowing eyes, and quirked eyebrows. Lance grew bored of it in a few ticks and stalked up to his family. His mom was close behind.

 

“Where’s Keith?” He asked, Alfor surveying the crowd to no avail. Allura, however, successfully sought him out. She found him squinting at the sky, arms folded and foot impatiently thumping on the floor. His pale purple and red jacket seemed comically short to Lance, ending where his ribs would. Especially considering that he wore traditional galra clothing- something only the recent citizens from Daibazaal wore. The rest wore Altean clothing in their own muted colors.

 

The queen placed a hand on his shoulder, causing his head to snap from Keith to her warm blue eyes. “You should wait with him,” She advised. “We’ll have to greet Sheelo separately, as the royal family.”

 

He nodded his head. “Right, right. Viv,” He called, watching her almond-shaped eyes glare at him as she forced herself to stop scolding Fiero and Sarpedon. He could always trust her to shut down their disgusting displays of PDA before it went too far. “I’m trusting you to keep these assholes in check.” He gestured broadly to where he could see soldiers made unrecognizable by casual clothing. Xenomora was the easiest to spot, with her brute size and the tiny Elyria on her shoulders.

 

“Do you hate me that much?” She whined. Allura covered her laughter with a polite cough.

 

“Yes,” deadpanned Lance. “I hate you _that_ much.”

  


 

 

 

Keith wasn’t in the mood to speak when Lance arrived. So he filled the silence with talk of everything yet nothing at the same time. Of a visit from Blaytz, which only Lance and Alfor seemed excited for. Of the festivities to come- he assured Keith that it was very warranted as Sheelo was a decorated soldier- and the categories the soldiers were prepared to show him afterward. Flying, united battle, hands on combat, long range, agility, endurance, and survival. He even tried flirting with the bastard to no avail. Was he even listening? Or was he too caught up in his own thoughts and impatience for his comrade’s arrival to think of anything else?

 

Nevertheless, Lance continued to talk until Keith slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes widening as he caught movement in the sky “Shut up for a few dobashes,” He hissed without meeting his gaze. His foot tapping ceased, his other hand twitching on occasion. Was he . . . excited?

 

Lance turned over his confusion several times over as researchers and a very excited Wyx directed the ship to its landing spot. His eyes flickered to the clawed hand covering his mouth. He knew what had to be done in the brief ticks before Sheelo and his lieutenant would arrive.

 

He licked Keith’s hand. The hand flew away, Keith looking at him with a perplexed look. “What the hell, Lance.” The two had a silent stare down for a good thirty ticks before the Galra was wiping his tainted hand all over his pristine blue sleeve. Lance’s eyes were serene. His body language, however, spoke murder and discomfort.

 

It was the closest Keith had gotten to breaking into his personal bubble in those past eight months.

  
  
  


 

 

Sheelo left the ship with an irritated look on his face as if he had just gotten back from arguing with someone. Immediately Keith left his side, a brief grin breaking across his face before shifting to something Lance was unable to see. He follows at a slower pace, watching as the two put each other into headlocks. Sheelo has a fond smile, melting away his irritation that made him somewhat terrifying. Keith, however-

 

“He’s not expressing himself,” Sarpedon blurted from behind him as the civilians back away to give the two reuniting soldiers space, the united armies staying still. Fiero had a look of recognition in his eyes, almost like he had been told something similar before. Lance decided to ask him about it later. “It’s . . . How he was trained. Before Sheelo changed it.” He silenced himself before more could slip, his helpless expression saying all that Lance needed to know.

 

It wasn’t his place to tell Lance about how the Galra used to be brought up.

 

Resigned, Lance moved up to break the reunion. Keith was placed back down, his stoic expression shaking when he sees the new mask of Lance, of polite smiles and practiced lines. “Hello, Commander Sheelo of subdivision one,” He says with a brief glance to Keith. The subdivision of fighter pilots. “I’m Commander Lance. On behalf of the Altean guard, we thank you for taking the time to be here, and for allowing Keith to train with us.”

 

A quiet chant of Keith’s was heard somewhere in the crowd before all-seeing Vivi climbed Fiero’s back and threw a pebble at their face. Sheelo didn’t bat an eye at it, similarly to Keith. “It was our honor,” the much taller Galra said with a polite bow to his head. “Besides, I think we both wanted to know what this sudden Altean guard could do.”

 

Lance fought back a ‘more than Keith’s solidarity mindset, it seems’ with a tight smile. “We’re not the best-”

 

“Bullshit,” Keith coughs. Sheelo blinks at him as the apathetic facade returns. “Lord Zarkon wasn’t joking when he said Lance was skilled in long-distance, Sheelo. Whoever trained him deserves some sort of raise not only for teaching him, but for putting up with him.”

 

“So then, Sheelo, Keith seems to have earned his raise for ‘putting up with me’,” Lance said with a sour look to Keith without any true harmful intentions. Keith raised a brow.

 

Sheelo laughed. A genuine thing, not out of the kindness of his heart. It felt genuine. “I’ll look into it, commander. I’m glad to see the two of you get along.”

 

“We don’t,” the two said in unison, crossly glaring at each other. Lance jokingly. Keith genuinely, and he assumed it was because how _dare_ he say the same thing as him. “We just work together,” Keith added, now avoiding Lance’s questioning gaze. Sheelo knew something from the way he looked at him.

 

Lance decided that Keith was growing uncomfortable. And if he wasn’t, too bad, Lance _was_. So he gestured for Sheelo to follow him and marched right on down to his family, Alfor quickly slapping a fruit from his wife’s mouth without looking in her direction. She gives a disdained look as the multi-colored fruit rolls away, almost seeming near tears. Coran silently comforts her and they all regain practiced smiles that seem far more natural than Lance’s.

 

Alfor, the queen, and Allura greet Sheelo. Hedwidge thanks him for his service, her face beaming. It was no rumor that she idolized Honerva- but Sheelo was . . . something new. But it made sense the longer Lance thought about it. She was a researcher on foreign planets- it would only be natural that run-ins with Daibazaal soldiers were a normal occurrence.

 

The ceremony goes by without a hitch. Lance has everything recited from when he used to sneak away from his family as a child to catch up with his friends (Vivi was always carving her name into trees for some reason) and watch it from the civilians’ perspective.

 

Then the assessment started.

 

The sea of people made a path to the training deck near the castle, Lance, Keith, and Sheelo taking the lead while the soldiers followed. Vivi gave pointers on how to not get lost in the castle. Keith seemed vaguely intrigued in her information. It didn’t occur to Lance that he had never stepped foot in the castle, as the training deck was in another building entirely.

  
  
  


 

 

Sheelo first assessed everyone on one-on-one combat. Similarly to the first day, Galra were paired up with Alteans. Keith was assigned to Vivi, who had temporarily discarded her off the shoulder dress for her under armor.

 

Lance was assigned to Xenomora. He was certain Sheelo hated him from this alone. Allura told him he was overreacting from where she stood.

 

Fiero had to fight Sarpedon, and Lance half expected them to be upset about this. But he wasn’t surprised to find them grinning with excitement. “I’m going to beat your hot ass into the ground," Fiero was saying.

 

“If you can catch me, love. You don’t know every detail of how I fight just yet.”

 

Lance decided to be a good example in front of Sheelo and shout at them to ‘get a room or can it’. Keith’s blank face seemed to be somewhat thankful as he brandished his sword. The cold look on his face rubbed Lance the wrong way once again. So he decided to take his anger out on Xenomora.

 

“You cannot help your fellow soldiers after you are completed,” Sheelo began as Lance flicked open his spear. Xenomora gave him a brutish grin as she wielded her hammer. Elyria shouted encouragement across from the room with her tall friend shouting encouragement back, where she was paired with another brutish Galra seeming intent on not going easy on her. He was in for a treat. “However, what I don’t see, I don’t see.”

 

‘I love this guy’ mouthed Lance to Vivi. She nods seriously, mouthing an ‘I know’ in response. Vivi, as well as most of Lance’s fellow Alteans (and Sarpedon), were positively taken by Sheelo’s proclamation that if he doesn’t see it, he won’t stop you.

 

“Start on my mark,” he ordered.

 

And Lance returned Xenomora’s grin.

  
  


Xenomora knocked Lance’s spear out of his hands during their battle. He gaped at her with wide eyes for a split tick, before having to hop out of the way of her hammer aimed for his legs. He kicked her harshly in the chest, fumbling to get to his spear.

 

“Lance!” Keith hissed. He turned just in time to see a sword flying in his direction. In a swift movement, he brandished Keith’s blade, seeing his now empty-handed comrade extend his claws in a defensive manner. Sheelo whipped his head around to try and catch Keith helping Lance, only to see that the deed was far beyond done and no amount of brotherly annoyance would change that.

 

Thanks to Keith, Lance downed Xenomora in combat. Keith stood over Vivi, criticizing her skills in throwing knives. “Keith, chill,” Lance advised with a hand on his shoulder, sword extended to him. He didn’t mention how his strict criticization pushed his buttons. The soldier’s facade vanishes for a brief moment, his yellow eyes softening as he met Lance’s eyes and their fingertips brushed when he took his blade back. Then they went cold again.

 

“Right.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

With Sarpedon as the victor in his duel, Elyria winning hers, Sheelo continues on. Lance, Keith, and their soldiers are given endurance training by being forced to run laps until they couldn’t anymore.

 

“This,” Lance gasped in between pants, “is. Terrible.”

 

“It’s normal training on Daibazaal,” Wyx informed him helpfully with a glance to Keith in the front. “Well, was.”

 

“That’s why Keith can beat all of our asses in anything. Especially flying,” Ryl added breathlessly. Elyria and Xenomora bolted past with boisterous laughter.

 

“No. Keith loves to fly,” a galra Lance didn’t know the name of said. She looked straight ahead, refusing to meet their eyes. “His skill in that department is from his own passion.”

 

Lance knew this for months. Anyone could tell by the way his face lit up during flying practice. And when Lance challenged him to anything related to flying, he didn’t even have to finish before Keith was agreeing.

 

“He also likes to dance,” Sheelo quickly said as they once again passed him. Lance froze, eyes widening. He quickly looks away to his hologram. “But don’t tell him you know. Or that I told you.”

 

“Thanks, Sheelo.”

 

Sheelo gave a small smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everything beyond that isn’t worthy of mentioning. Keith and Lance got into a ridiculous competition over who could go faster, resulting in a near-crash. The teamwork concept was more of the soldiers resolving personal issues and Klyran letting out some anger. Keith’s team, unsurprisingly to Lance, didn’t win. They genuinely thought Keith would have a solid plan besides ‘run into it and hope for the best’. Needless to say, Lance had Keith pinned to the ground in dobashes. “You know,” he said with that cocked brow and grin that warns most people nearby to stop listening. Or, for Allura, assault him. “I always imagined that I’d be pinning you down in a different way-” Lance flinched, half expecting Keith to hit him in some way. Instead, a weak hand paws his face away.

 

Through his shock, Lance realized that Keith was blushing. Still coldly staring at the grass, but blushing. It struck confliction in him.

 

 

 

 

 

By the time the sun had begun to set, the assessment was over. Lance stood where the festival began and where the dancing crowds ended, Keith by his side. Sheelo was talking with Allura about Cosmos know what by the food.

 

“I don’t like you right now,” Lance muttered as Keith only glared straight ahead. “I _really_ don’t like you right now.”

 

“That’s unfortunate,” Keith mumbled.

 

“You’re acting like a soldier again.”

 

“I am a soldier.”

 

“No, you’re Keith. And I’m Lance.”

 

“Soldiers.”

 

“Last I checked, I was Altean, and you’re Galra. Just . . . Stop pretending to be this model soldier that’s obedient and deprived of life.”

 

“I earned this position. Not like you’d know what that’s like,” Keith said plainly. His words were acid in Lance’s skin, burning through the pained strings of his lovesick heart. “And I’d like to keep it, thank you very much.”

 

“You can’t keep it if you don’t know when enough is enough, Keith!” Lance found himself shouting, voice shaking with his fingertips. Still, he pressed his index finger against the velvety fabric of Keith’s stupid jacket.  “You never know if chastising my way of fighting is enough, or insulting my own friend’s skills -that you haven’t seen the full potential of- is enough! We’re trying our hardest here, and have been since we were children! And if you haven’t noticed already- we weren’t _exactly_ raised in a world of fighters!”

 

“I’m trying to _help you_ , Lance! We’ve been improving, but not enough! You never know what might happen in the future; even if you’re not accepting it, Voltron might not always be there to keep us safe!” Keith’s voice was rising to match his. He seemed genuinely frustrated, but for a different reason, Lance was unaware of. “We can’t trust anyone but ourselves to keep our homes safe!”

 

This only struck a deeper chord in Lance. Now, normally he would dismiss this. But this was _Keith_ we were talking about here. The man he had begrudgingly fallen in love with, and the man who knew just how much Blaytz and Alfor meant to him. To him the two were untouchable- they were gods in his mind able to do wrong but always willing to correct it. “The whole _point_ in Voltron is for us to trust it! We signed alliances under the promise that when we need them, Voltron will arrive!”

 

“Oh, what do you know about trust,” Keith seethed. His voice dropped threateningly low, only to rise back to its dangerous volume, “You don’t even trust me enough to stop pretending you’re fine every tick of your life!”

 

“Only because you won’t even tell me about yourself! What is there to trust when I’m only learning shit about you from Sheelo?!”

 

Keith’s arms were folded again. His claws dug into the fabric of his jacket until Lance was certain it would draw blood. Good, he thought. Let him bleed.

 

The music hadn’t stopped, but people were staring and starting to gather. Two arguing commanders- one of which in the royal family of Altea- was something that would not go unnoticed. Vivi was at the front with Fiero, Sheelo, and Allura, all looking worried with furrowed brows and tensed forms. All ready to restrain them if needed. But what the two do next has them worried even more, and rather confused. “Then,” Keith said bitterly, “I guess we can’t work together if we can’t trust each other.”

 

“Fine,” Lance spat, refusing to look away from his eyes despite the way his heart burned and ached. He was undoing his entire life with one conversation. Unraveling any hope of love that Keith had sparked in him on that first day he arrived with a single word. He was an idiot. He could hear Allura grumbling this. And yet again, she was right.

 

“Fine,” Keith echoed. He sounded hollow in a way that didn’t process in Lance’s mind. The two turned their backs on one another without any other words spoken, Lance’s clenched fist unclenching to wrap his arms around his shaking torso, and Keith’s grip on his folded arms only tightening. Lance allowed tears to form in his eyes to be brushed away by a sleeve as he rushes to the unpopulated tavern in the square, only housing one or two citizens at the moment.

 

Keith, however, forced himself to shove all feelings to the back of his mind other than anger. Lance wouldn’t know of this until much later.

 

So he drowned.

 

Not in a physical sense, really. Just metaphorically. He drowned in himself and the words spat from a heated almost-lover. And how do people drown?

 

Alone. And out of foolishness- hand-in-hand with pride.  

 

 

 

 

Solitude wasn’t something Lance wanted often. Even then, as he stood with his arms folded on the white railing of the tavern balcony, he didn’t want to be here alone, staring out at the orange glow of dancing and merry citizens, soldier or not. He turned over Keith’s words repeatedly in his head, staring helplessly at his calloused hands. The next time he went into a cryo-pod, they would go away. But not much else beyond physical pain could be healed by the cryo-pods.

 

“You’re kind of an asshole,” the voice of a woman known for teasing Lance said softly. He glanced to his side to briefly see the paler skin of Vivi, her green marks glowing faintly. The curl at her temples as two separate shapes, like a broken circlet or a flame. The same marks were just above her lips.

 

“Yeah,” Lance agreed. He didn't argue as he typically would, feigning hurt. He didn't need to pretend to be hurt in that moment.

 

She brushed the stray pale blue hair from her face. So much for Hedwidge’s braids, he thought dully.

 

“But so is Keith.”

 

“He’s always an asshole. It’s a full-time job.” His jokes sounded hollow and dull. Typically, he could swing easily back into his cheerful mood. Maybe Vivi had magic that she didn’t tell anyone about.

 

“Explains you, then.”

 

The two grow silent.

 

“Was . . . Keith right about what he said? That I’m hard to trust?”

 

“No,” Vivi said softly. “Everyone trusts you here. He’s just being daft.”

 

“But I never let people know how I’m feeling-” Lance was cut off by Vivi placing a finger against his lips. She glanced down to the crowd briefly, seeing a laughing Elyria and Xenomora oblivious to the situation. Fiero seemed to be explaining it to a visually distressed Sarpedon, Allura doing the same to Alfor and Coran.

 

“Lance, you lovable idiot. Tell me what you’re doing right now?”

 

“Telling you how I’m feeling . . .” Lance says against her finger, feeling like an absolute dimwit worthy of being thrown to the Weblum.

 

“And while we’re doing that, care to tell me _why_ you don’t tell other people how you’re feeling?” Vivi asked. She knew the answer wholeheartedly, as information gathered from years of knowing Lance and studying him. She just . . . always pretended his masks worked on her.

 

“ . . . So I don’t ruin their mood . . .” He grumbled.

 

“Good. Now say it with me; ‘Keith is an asshole and until he’s ready to apologize I'm mad at him’,” She said, comedically slow in doing such. It was her way of trying to cheer up Lance. It didn't work, but he appreciated the sentiment. The two leaned against the railing, shoulders touching and body language mirrored. Lance had only then recalled that he was planning on dancing with Keith on that night.

 

So much for that, then.

 

“Keith is an asshole and until he’s ready to apologize I’m mad at him,” Lance and Vivi recited together, one comforting and the other in a constant state of sorrow. In truth, he wasn’t _mad_ at him. Just frustrated to the point where all he wanted to do was either curl up and cry, or scream and pull his hair out. Lance didn’t even think he was frustrated at Keith anymore, he thought as he silently stared over the joy-filled crowd with Vivi. Just the mindset he was whipped into.

 

But now Keith was gone.

 

 

And it was all his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took the life out of me and lemme tell y'all,, finding someone to proof-read it was hell (thanks to anyone I asked if you're reading this you the realest)


	6. Virgo

“We’re doing this to strengthen your bond as a team,” Allura explains, more to the Paladins than Lance. The devices strapped to their heads buzzed with activity. “So that you can have a better understanding of your fellow Paladins on a neurological scale.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like it’s going to backfire at  _ all _ ,” Pidge says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Lance opened an eye to quirk a brow questioningly at Allura. She only gave him a blank stare as a response, her message clear. It was inevitable for the rest of the team to know who Keith was if they were going to work together.

 

“It won’t. I believe in all of you,” the princess reassured. Lance bit back a teasing comment, twirling the double-sided dagger between his fingers. “Just let your minds flow freely to the rest of the team.”

 

And so they did. Fuzzy memories reach Lance before he trusts them with his own information. Memories of a picture of someone who didn’t look like Pidge but did all the same and what can be assumed to be his sister. Hunk showed Lance Earth, his friends, and his favorite food. Shiro showed the flying facility as well, void of Pidge and Hunk.

 

Lance thinks of his soldiers. Fiero pulling Vivi and Lance into double-headlocks, Klyrian teasing Lance on how he screamed when someone shaved off part of his bangs. Vivi’s tree in the town square, with her name, scratched repeatedly into the bark. Hedwidge, Fiero, and Lance’s names recently scratched into the bark as the festival had brought itself to an end. Lance forming the guard, with his five childhood friends making cases to support him. Vivi, Genevieve, Fiero, Crysthan, and Laxus all gathering around Lance to celebrate when Alfor ordained them the first guards of Altea. Keith’s first arrival. Shiro makes a strangled sound at the appearance of Keith. Lance opens an eye to see a nervous sweat forming on his neck. he retracts the memories of Keith before they spill over at this. Instead, he went on to think about his mother. Her scar, her smile. Her kindness. Cosmos, he misses her. He misses all of them.

 

Then he feels a small probing, of someone trying to get into the locked away memories of Keith. It works only for a tick, memories of Keith crying in a memory held close to Lance’s heart flashing in their minds before it stops entirely. He knows who keeps trying to dig into the memories of Keith. Tearing the headset away, Lance shoves himself from the ground. He thrusts it into Allura’s hands, storming to the door. “I can’t do it,” He manages at the door in a final explanation for his actions. He allows the door to slide shut behind him, but not before seeing what his memories had done to Hunk and Pidge. Tears streaming down their faces, both of them staring after Lance in what might be confusion.

 

 

 

  
  
Lance then opted to sit out the next training exercise, with Allura apologizing to the Paladins all the while. She explains to them that he copes differently than Coran and her. He doesn’t bother to argue with her, instead picking at a hangnail. Coran warily eyes him, hands still clasped behind his back. 

 

Then, when Allura starts the battle training, Lance stupidly rushes from the formation to attack a sentry that looked at him funny, causing Pidge to fall on his face before being swallowed by a black pit the Alteans know all-too well from their first training sessions. He can still hear Haxus screaming like a bitch and feel Genevieve clinging to Lance’s head for dear life. Lance shoots a sentry from across the room with the memory still fresh in his mind. Hunk screams at the sound, falling into the black hole. 

 

Cosmos, he was turning into Keith. He doesn’t want to be like Keith, as much as he loves him.

 

So he turns back into Lance.

 

“At your six,” He calls to Shiro, whacking a Sentry with the butt of his blaster before the laser shot through its chest. With the hum of Shiro’s galra arm, the sentry crumples to the ground. His vaguely familiar leader pauses briefly to thank him.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Lance shrugs, elbowing a sentry in the face. “Needed to make up for earlier somehow.”

 

“You don’t need to,” Shiro says, his form darting to abolish a sentry in Lance’s blind side, “It’s my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have pried. I just-”

 

“He sided with Altea. Keith’s a good guy. Even if he’s an absolute dimwit with no sense of direction or battle strategy other than . . . stab stab,” Lance says, making a stabbing motion with his blaster for effect. 

 

Shiro laughs. For once it isn’t forced and out of the kindness of his heart. It feels . . . Genuine. Why? He wasn’t trying to be funny. “I’m sure he is, stabbing aside.”

 

“Yeah, great at what he does. Never beats Viv though. She’s got a special place in my heart for throwing knives at shit.” 

 

He doesn’t ask who Vivi is.

 

And Lance thinks, just for a tick, that maybe Shiro isn’t too bad.

 

 

 

 

 

In the end, all of Allura’s training to bond the team to their lions can only be considered a partial success. Lance found himself distracted by his recent discovery of Keith’s now abnormal heartbeat during the exercise to bond Blue to his being and crashes nose-first in the sand. His apologies are accepted by her with only some bitterness on her half.

 

Shortly after, the Galra attack. With his jewelry exchanged for the blue helmet, he is the first inside the cockpit of a lion. He barely hears Allura give Shiro the rundown over the din of his own thoughts, stuck on the status report to his right. To distract himself from his own thoughts, he tells Pidge and Hunk through the communicator that he’s going to scout ahead to see what the situation looks like.

 

“I’ll go with you,” they offer in unison.

 

“Too risky,” Lance quickly explains as Blue shoots through the sky in a blur of movement, stopping high in the sky. Finding the threat is no difficult task, as the  . . .  _ thing _ is towering amidst barren ground. Cursing, he plummets back down just in time for the foe to look in the sky where he previously was perched. He explains it to Shiro, all the while watching for the large beast to come thundering to him any moment. 

 

“You’ll have to draw it away,” Allura advises. The sound of Coran tinkering with something is barely audible. 

 

“No shit, Allura. Do you want me to get on my most revealing panties and do a little dance to draw its attention to me?”

 

“How do we do that, princess?” A more respectful and eager Pidge asks.

 

“I don’t know- I’m not the commander here. Shiro?”

 

Shiro pauses. Lance sees the way his eyes narrow in thought, going through all tactics in his mind. He briefly wonders if any of them will match the idiotic plan bubbling in the back of his mind. “I might have something. But it’s going to be hard without the Red lion in action, so I’m going to need you all to work together.”

 

“Right!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

One Quintent.

 

That’s how long it takes to defeat the monstrosity the Galra threw their way without the Red Lion.

 

Shiro motivates them to continue, even as the lions are battered and the paladins are on their last limbs. He truly is suited for the Black Lion.

 

Lance continues even without the motivation, striving forward for the future.

 

Striving for a taste of vengeance so sweet, served on a silver platter to satiate the fury in the last Alteans.

  
  


In the end, it isn’t Shiro’s plan of trying to unlock the powers of the lions that works, but of Lance, Pidge, and Hunk’s united need for food and a nap. 

 

Lance proposes that they take it out of orbit. With the help of Hunk and Pidge, the three of them manage to drag it out to the sky, but it breaks free just before the atmosphere shifts to the nothingness of space.

 

Thankfully, Shiro arrives with just enough time to claw it apart with the rest of the lions. 

 

Lance tells them to not look for longer than a few ticks at a time.

 

 

 

 

 

  
  
Hunk immediately finds distaste in the wonder that is food goo. 

 

“This stuff is terrible, man! How do you  _ eat _ this?” He complains with a wince as Lance continues to eat, finding himself lacking exhaustion despite being on the receiving end of the battle.

 

“You don’t,” Lance says through a mouth full of disgusting green goop, “even if Allura and Coran try to convince you it’s normal on Altea, don’t listen to them. They’re only trying to guilt you into submission. But just keep eating this knowing it’s only temporary, and sweet release will soon come.”

 

“Oh thank god,” Pidge says into his own food goo. Shiro just seems happy to be eating in peace. “I thought we were going to have to  _ live _ off of this stuff.”

 

“Cosmos no. Even if I was surrounded by hot dudes and they all said ‘eat the food goo and we’ll love you forever’, I wouldn’t touch it. Taking Keith out of the equation, that is.”

 

Pidge goes silent for a while before some sort of realization crosses his face. “Wait, you’re gay?”

 

Lance pauses with a mammoth-sized dollop of food goo near his mouth. His brows narrow as if in deep thought, eyes askance. “What’s a gay?”

 

With this, Pidge about loses it. He skips the laughter part and goes straight to crying, leaving a nervous Hunk to explain it to Lance while Shiro continues to eat his slop in peace. Even after Hunk’s help, Lance still finds himself confused on why humans feel the need to call themselves something by who they love. They must find a security in knowing exactly what you feel. 

 

“Are you guys going to sleep soon?” Lance asks as he picks up his plate scraped clean of any disgusting food goo. He places the plate on an empty space, not stopping to watch it get sucked up to Nebulas knows where.

 

“Nah,” Pidge says, passing the plate to Hunk, “I want to look into the castle’s programming again."

 

“And if this idiot’s going to do that, I guess I’m helping.”

 

“Shiro?”

 

“Oh- Uh- I’m going to try and get some rest. In case we get attacked again.” A solid plan, even though Lance knows by the tired look in his eyes that has always been there, Shiro won’t be getting much rest.

 

“Then it’s settled. Pidge, Hunk, I’m going to be your moral support.”

 

“Nah man, it’s cool, you don’t have to-”

 

“Hunk. C’mon man. Lemme feel useful here.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Hunk relents, raising his hands in surrender. 

 

 

 

 

 

Pidge immediately sets up outdated computers to the castle, the screen bright on the reflection of his glasses. Hunk sets to work on another computer, Lance seated on the floor with his feet on Hunk’s legs. 

 

“What’s your planet like?” He asks, eyeing Hunk. “This Earth you spoke of.”

 

“Uh . . . Pidge, how do I explain Earth to an alien?”

 

“Just listen to your heart, Hunk.”

 

“Wow. Touching, dude.” He glances to Lance, before returning to a bunch of gadgets now spread in front of him. “Earth’s this green place, with an ocean around land masses. It’s kinda similar to here. But all of these places are filled with so many different kinds of animals that I honestly lost count sometimes. And oh, God, the people, Lance. You’d be amazed what these people created on their own, man. And they all look so different.”

 

“And the Garrison place you all come from?”

 

“It’s a flying school to train astronauts and all that cool stuff. Pidge and I always failed the simulations though.”

 

“Because you kept throwing up in the model ship.”

 

“Yeah, that. It’s probably nothing compared to what you did, though.”

 

“Want me to tell you about it?” Lance asks with a small grin. He feels more at ease around Hunk than Shiro- telling him about his life before the war began.

 

“Please?” Hunk gives him puppy-dog eyes, which is excessive in the least. And so, with a laugh, Lance tells him about Altea and the soldiers he considers family, even now. Of how they met, and how they formed the guard. He even includes a dramatic re-telling of his bonding exercise with Team Purple. He continues until his eyes slump and he finds consciousness slipping his mind.

 

 

 

 

Lance dreams of the final battle. How on Altea all hell broke loose, soldiers fighting and falling left and right as Alteans struggle to evacuate. The screams and fires raging on, Keith struggling to keep his own soldiers off for just a tick to let Vivi’s sister and father get to safety. 

 

Next thing he knows he’s being shaken back to reality, a concerned Hunk and Pidge looming over him. His heart races and cold sweat rolls down his back. Panic bites and gnaws at every edge of him until he can’t bear it anymore. He has an itching to protect himself- protect Hunk and Pidge and his soldiers long dead- but he knows that he is safe in this hangar. No Galra will attack his comrades from here. Not yet. Pidge breathes a sigh of relief. “You were shouting,” He says in a small voice. “Are you . . . alright?”

 

Lance nods his head. “I’m fine. Just a silly nightmare, you know?” He laughs. By the looks on their faces, they do  _ not _ know. It’s his first time seeing this reaction. Now he knows how Shiro must feel. He coughs, still managing his shaking smile. “I’m A-OK, is what I mean.”

 

Pidge furrows his brows, looking as if equations fly through his mind in a split tick. Then he’s tearing his chunky headphones from his old computer and shoving them against Lance’s chest. “Take this. Don’t know when it’ll come in handy.”

 

“Uh- Thanks . . . ?” Lance says slowly, through the tight feeling in his chest and throat. He needs to leave. Go to a new space and clear his roaring ocean of thoughts and panic from ten thousand years ago. “I’m just going to go to the observatory deck for a bit. Get some fresh air. Keep doing whatever voodoo you’re doing, alright?”

 

“Okay,” Hunk says after a minute, hand still on his shoulder. “If you need me, my door’s open.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind, man. Thanks again, Pidge.”

 

Pidge only nods briefly, having already returned to his work.

 

 

 

 

 

Lance sits on the observatory deck for some time, staring at the collection of pictures on his communicator. With a hand on his chin, the other goes through photos dating as far back to when he was a child. A younger Allura and Alfor grinning into the camera with him. Blaytz giving him a wink accompanied with finger guns in the midst of a very serious-looking conversation. Vivi wielding a throwing knife and carving her name into a tree. Haxus sliding down a banister, screaming all the while. Chrystan standing in an empty room covered in flowers, a foot swinging just above acidic water. Fiero and Vivi, Fiero and Sarpedon. His mom. Cosmos, he has a lot of photos of those he loves. In this moment, he’s thankful for them. Several pictures of his mom show her pink scar jutting out from collars. He glances down to the pale blue scar climbing his forearm. The shape of claws dragging along the skin desperately dug into the skin in a search for a hold on Lance.

 

Lots of pictures of Keith. Some with him in his helmet that covers his head, others without or in his ugly red and faded purple jacket. Sheelo appears in some of them. Some without much of anything at all. One picture is from Lance’s game, taken by Trigel. Team Purple, with a grinning Allura and Coran in the back. Xenomora holds Elyria on her shoulders. Keith is looking at Lance out of the corner in his eye. They . . . look happy.

 

“Mind if I join you?”

 

He glances to Allura in the corner of his eyes. He mumbles something that loosely translates to a ‘go ahead’. She slumps down next to him, peering to the pictures.

 

“You did the best you could, Lance,” She says quietly, voice but a ghost. “That’s all that matters.”

 

“We lost an entire nation in a night. My soldiers didn’t even know that I was still alive - ”

 

“I think Vivi did.” Allura is blurting it before she gets a chance to think it over, Lance’s thumb freezing over a picture of Keith in a dog-pile of soldiers. He was tapping out in the picture, face desperate. “I mean - I’m certain she did. You were hidden on  _ Hedwidge’s _ Facility for Nebulas sake. And father’s memories said the same. But the only way to know for certain is-”

 

“If I check her logs.” Lance sighs. He leans forward, communicator discarded in his lap. They go silent for a dobash before he asks a question gnawing into his mind.“Were you - Were you awake when crashed?”

 

“Yeah.” She’s even quieter now- if that’s possible. Allura doesn’t want to talk about that night, that much is obvious now. But Lance has questions- and he desperately wants answers. But other than Allura and their father’s memories (which he avoids for the fear of what he’s going to do after seeing him again), the only person to have his answers would be-

 

“Your friends were very brave back then, Lance, whether they thought you had fallen or not,” Coran’s cheery voice says from a little ways off. His footsteps echo in the silence. “I think you would have been proud.” His gentle hands rest on Allura and Lance’s shoulders. “But what a loss, to lose everything you worked for in one night.”

 

“You lost something too, Coran. So did Allura. Don’t make it about me,” Lance says in a ghost of a voice. “I only lost people. We forget people over time. You lost an entire planet- the rest of our race.”

 

“It’s not a competition of who’s loss is greater,” Coran says lightly. His eyes are sorrowful, the worst change Lance saw in him in all the years he’s known him. Like Blue, Coran mourns the loss of his loved ones in silence, constantly moving forward.

 

None of them say anything after that. Coran only opens his arms as a silent invitation of comfort, something he’s done since before Allura and Lance could remember. They don’t hesitate, falling into the reassuring embrace. He hears Coran choke back a wail, and his blurry vision sees Allura bury her face deeper into his shoulder. 

 

Lance blinks away his tears.

 

 

 

 

 

“Coran,” Lance says from where he repositioned himself, legs folded to his chest in the large seat of the Blue Paladin. He stares at the cryo-pod status update on all active holographs. Keith’s heart-rate decreased in the past Varga, but not to the point where Lance has to worry. He worries anyway. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

 

A panel slams into place, the ginger advisor twirling his mustache with a free hand. “I’m not sure- if you want the truth. The best case would be one or two more quintets. The worst case is never- or until we find someone capable of getting him out.”

 

Lance vaguely gestures in Coran’s general direction. He laughs, a jolly sound that Lance missed dearly.

 

“Now that  _ is _ a possibility, but I’m not familiar with Hedwidge’s prototypes. Her previous works at least made the internal wiring easy to follow.”

 

“Widgie made those cryo-pods?”

 

“Yes, she did.” Coran gives him a puzzled look. “I thought she told everyone.”

 

Lance shakes his head. Keith didn’t know, nor Fiero and Sarpedon. Actually- the only person who  _ would _ know would be Vivi. Lance only finds out later, when he faces himself to speak to the memories of his father, that Alfor had trusted Coran with Vivi’s

 

“Well, she was trying to improve on the existing technology. Make something that eases other pains.”

 

He knows why she wanted to make something like that. To calm the storm in Keith and Vivi’s heads, a bustling chaos from their pasts and what they saw during missions. To keep Honerva from entirely losing herself in her search for quintessence. But he doesn’t tell Coran this. Even after their deaths, Lance holds their secrets under lock and key. “But she wasn’t able to do it,” he predicts.

 

“Not exactly,” Coran says as he fishes around another compartment, “she did it, but the results were all over the place. Your father told me that she would only use them as a last resort, and shut down the prototypes all together for the safety of her team.”

 

_ And that’s where she differs from her predecessor,  _ Lance thinks with disdain as he returns his attention to Keith’s status report. His neutral reports are nothing terrific- an abnormal heartbeat, no wounds, and an unknown estimated release date.

 

He looks down to Pidge’s headphones. If Allura can’t answer his questions, then maybe- “Hey, Coran?”

  
  


“Hm?”

  
  


“My communicator’s still capable of downloading logs, right?”

 

 

 

 

 

☽ ♛ ☾

 

 

 

 

 

**Apocrypha Written Introductory Log**

 

**_We finally have a research facility for Apocrypha; Lileth is ecstatic over the idea of finally being able to research this fascinating planet after so many deca-phoebs of begging King Alfor for our own facility on Apocrypha. We, of course, have been given this facility on the terms that we don’t reveal it to anyone. But Lance knows about it- I mean, at least I think he does. He was present for most of my hearings. Even gave his own support. And Vivi knows, too. I hope I can trust her with this information. To any of my researchers reading this for a briefing; Apocrypha is an all-water planet, but murky at best. There is only bacterial and ocean-bred life forms here, with no sign of any life with its own society and language. We are here to catalog all lifeforms. Thank you for volunteering yourself to this facility._ **

 

**_Hedwidge Myosotis, Head Researcher of Altea’s Foreign Life division_ **

  
  


**Apocrypha Research Logs**

 

_ “ This is Hedwidge Myosotis, signing in on Project Apocrypha. We found a new type of fish inhabiting the planet. Asher thinks we should name it after Lance,” Hedwidge begins, her face younger than Lance remembers. More hopeful. This was two years before the battle, he knows by the date on a corner. “Since it keeps trying to er . . . ‘reproduce’ with the other species. I think we’ll call the species after Blaytz if this is the case. Lance flirts without any intention. Everyone and their pets’ children know Blaytz’s intentions.” She tucks pink hair behind her ear, giving the stink eye to someone off camera until they apologize and leave. “We have also started to investigate the fishes’ social systems to see if they vary by species. No one from Altea is aware of this facility yet. But I think I can trust Vivi to keep my secrets.” _

  
  
  


**___________________**

  
  
  


_ Hedwidge seems rushed, her milky white eye peering into the camera. She lets out a small ‘oh’ and throws herself back into a sitting position. Clearing her throat and adjusting her half-moon glasses, she begins to speak. “Blue Paladin Blaytz visited today with Green Paladin Trigel out of interest in our progress. Quite shockingly, Blaytz seems to love Blaytz the Trycecore.” _

 

_ The video cuts to Blaytz pressing his face to the glass, an interesting creature swimming around in the shot. “Trigs, they named one after me! Isn’t that awesome?” He coos. _

 

_ “Blaytz. They named him after you because he kept trying to bang the other fish.” _

 

_ “I know! I’m so proud of him!” _

 

_ It cuts back to Hedwidge. “So I suppose that’s good. In terms of recent progress, we’ve found a new natural power source in the inner workings of the planet’s core,” She holds up a glowing rock, “And we’re now looking into how long it can keep something running while the rest of our team continues cataloging fish and studying them. Vivi told me that Gyrgan made throwing knives for her after she saved some of his people from a rockslide. With Crysthan’s battle ax from Lord Zarkon, this makes two of the soldiers who earned honorary weapons. I think Fiero may be next. Unless he quiznaks his opportunities. Again.” _

  
  
  
  


**___________________**

  
  
  


_ “Fiero and Crysthan earned their honorary weapons today. Lance hasn’t shown any signs of getting one soon. I think he’s partial to the spear Coran and Allura fashioned him for his birthday.” _

  
  
  


**___________________**

  
  
  
  


_ “King Alfor Told us that Lord Zarkon wishes to form a united army between Daibazaal and Altea, with Zarkon’s most recent prodigy General Keith Tephra and our favorite Commander Lance as their training instructors and united leaders. Lileth started a betting pool for how long it’s going to take before Lance scares away or pisses off Keith. Lupus thinks it’s only going to last a week, and Panhera thinks it’s going to last a month. I’m unsure of how long it’s going to last. He still wishes for our facility to remain a secret. Even to Lord Zarkon and our new allies. But I’m now allowed to tell Vivi everything. She keeps my secrets and makes me feel . . . strange.” _

  
  
  


**___________________**

  
  
  


_ Hedwidge has short hair now, cropped just below her chin. Lance remembers this as being a month before Keith’s arrival. “We’ve successfully cataloged all five hundred and sixty-three living creatures on Apocrypha. I started prototypes of a cryo-pod using the energy source found in the core. I’m refusing any volunteers from my fellow alchemists for testing the pods. We’re going to continue to look for creatures able to communicate tomorrow. Vivi’s going to come with me to help.” _

 

**___________________**

  
  
  


_ “Keith arrived today with his soldiers. Lance doesn’t seem all that pissed that he has to work with him. Vivi says that he might have even been having  _ fun _. Curious.” _

 

**___________________**

  
  
  


_ “My prototypes malfunctioned and short circuited. This type of power isn’t suited for Altean technology. I’ll have to adjust. Vivi invited me back to Altea for a few Quintents, and even went as far as to get Allura to give me an official pardon of work. I can’t bring myself tell her that I was already granted a pardon by King Alfor to assist Lance in training. My team will be coming with me.” _

  
  
  


**___________________**

  
  
  


_ “Vivi got quite the shock when she discovered why we were truly on Altea. She fights in a way beyond my comprehension. I think I might love her more than I originally thought. And Lance and Keith- they are a force to be reckoned with in battle. I think King Alfor might have done a good thing to pair his son with this hot-headed general. It’s like a fire to melt the ice.” Hedwidge looks around briefly in the room where she is- a flying facility used to control the obstacles- before moving her face closer to the screen. Her white eyes are nearly the only thing visible. “Raylond and Trigel have given me advice on how to adapt my prototypes to Apocrypha’s power. I’ll have to adjust the inner wiring when we return.” She moves her face back to a more level place. “After Vivi finishes healing in her cryo-pod, she insisted on taking me out for a meal. I hope I don’t act like a fool.” _

 

**_______** **____________**   
  
  


_ “Vivi says that Lance is in love with Keith. Crysthan now owes her twenty pieces. I’ve never been prouder of her, or of Lance. They make a good pair.” _

  
  
  


**___________________**

  
  


_ “Fiero and Sarpedon finally got together. Asher has to walk around the facility without pants on for a week now because he got drunk on Altea and made a bet with Elyria. Vivi hasn’t stopped laughing for two vargas. My prototypes are still malfunctioning. I’m sure I’ll get them working.” _

  
  
  


**___________________**

  
  
  


_ “Keith left. Lance is torn up about it. I don’t know how to tell him that it isn’t his fault entirely. He can’t express his emotions outwardly. I understand. I don’t know. Vivi knows. She can comfort him. I can’t.” _

  
  
  


**___________________**

  
  
  


_ “Research has resumed on Apocrypha again,” Hedwidge says. She looks tired and drained. She yawns. “I got two prototypes working. They’re highly unstable, and if I keep them running in this state my team might be in danger. I don’t know what to do with them.” _

 

_ “You don’t have to get them working,” Vivi says off-camera. She appears, brows furrowed in concern. “You’ve done enough for Altea for three lifetimes, lovebug.” She begins to comb through Hedwidge’s tangled hair. _

 

_ “I’m not doing it for Altea, Viv. You know this.” _

 

_ “ . . . I know.” _

 

_ “Anyway. Asher wants to continue trying to go near a new large life form we discovered circling the planet’s core. Princess Allura insists that we proceed with caution. Panhera thinks they might be poisonous.” _

 

_ “I’m going to see if Lance is in the training deck again,” Vivi says in a hushed tone. _

 

_ “Bring him this,” Hedwidge says, standing from Vivi’s bed and rushing off camera. She returns with a melon in hand. “One of my other sectors and I found that it helps with dehydration.” _

 

_ “I will.” Vivi places a kiss on Hedwidge’s forehead, so brief Lance almost didn’t catch it. “I’ll just be a tick, so don’t go trying to work on your prototypes from galaxies away.” _

 

_ “Nebulas, no. That would do more harm than good, relying on robotics.” _

 

_ Vivi leaves off-camera. Hedwidge fiddles with her thumbs, as if unsure of what to say. _

 

_ “Sheelo thinks that Keith will return soon. I hope Vivi can keep Lance straight until then.” _

  
  
  


**___________________**

  
  
  


_ “Lance and Keith patched things up. Vivi thinks they might be dating now, but nothing in their dynamic has changed. Keith still gives Lance the stink eye every time he flirts with him.” _

 

_ “I think I’m going to stop working on my prototypes. Best case scenario is that when an emergency arrives where we have to use them, only minor scarring will remain. Worst case scenario? They never leave the Cryo-pod. I hope it’s the former.” _

  
  
  


**___________________**

  
  
  


Lance skims several logs. He rests one hand behind his head against his pillow, headphones keeping all of his friend's personal secrets and research only between himself and her ghost. The logs are all normal, and Hedwidge seems to be getting happier with every passing log and retelling of small discoveries and stories of Vivi until-

 

_ Hedwidge stands at the screen, Lance’s spear strapped to her back. She’s moved to the infirmary instead of the observatory deck, red error messages on all of the cryo-pods. Except for two occupied cryo-pods. He sees himself, battered and bleeding from cuts and blaster wounds. The claw marks Keith left behind are deep and to the bone all down his forearm. Keith isn’t exactly looking peachy, either. Lance doesn't want to know who he had struggled to fight to earn all of his injuries. _

 

_ “Lance. Pardon my language, but you fell unconscious sacrificing yourself like a son of a bitch. I’m leaving this last log for you on Altea's behalf, and the case that I’m not around to brief you myself. You were Altea’s pride and hope when you formed a guard just to make a legacy to stand by Voltron. In the end, both your guard and Voltron must go away. Alfor decreed this long ago, only allowing myself, Coran, the Queen, and all other paladins excluding Zarkon to know this. Your sister still doesn't know of this. _

_ If you wake up and find that no one is here but these logs, know that the Blue Lion awaits in the inner hangars, and its paladin gives you one last message. Blaytz says he’s proud of you. And to give the Galra hell for him. _

_Crysthan fell to what he thought was his friend’s hands, and Vivi insisted that I leave her to die. I’m going back for her and anyone else fleeing the battle, Galra or Altean. It’s what you would do._

_ Keith, if you’re watching this instead, Lance should be fine. He’s got luck to boot. Don’t stress out. Don’t get angry.” Hedwidge takes a shaking breath, tears forming in her eyes. She wipes them away with a blood-stained sleeve. “And explain why I’m about to do this when you get the chance.” She ducks below the screen, and Lance hears the sound of a panel being carefully removed. A very Hedwidge thing to do. Even with Vivi on the verge of death and Altea nearing extinction, she doesn't want to break the careful work of her facility. The sound of a blade striking the wires is faintly heard before she appears again. _

 

_ “If all goes well, Vivi and I will see you soon. This is Hedwidge Myosotis, signing out on Project Apocrypha.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this chapter done! It took longer because I found myself in a slump in the beginning and near the end before I decided to take a different narrative to end the chapter because GOD I love my lesbians, and you should too or I haven't done a good job writing this fanfiction.


	7. Saggitarius

Lance didn’t know where Keith went after the festival. Allura told him to his room- Sarpedon the training deck. They had said this sparingly. As if it really mattered. Either way, Keith still being on Altea or not, Lance had destroyed the budding trust between them like a dumbass. He was  _ so close _ to getting Keith to open up, too. So why, when Sheelo returned when the moons were high in the sky with a pitiful look, did Lance’s heart strain and his breath catch?

 

Why should he have cared so much if he knew that it was bound to happen, bound to leave, as all commanders assigned to Lance often do?

 

Fiero, surprisingly, was the only one to have the courage to give him an answer, even if it wasn’t what Lance wanted to hear at the time. Vivi only tried to get him to sleep, and even gave him a fruit that knocked him unconscious. It took him a week to forgive her, and every time he ignored her she’d mutter something about Hedwidge.

 

` “It’s called love, dude,” he said as he brought his sword down from his face, the gladiator sentry obediently still. “It’s not like you can just automatically move on from him. And don’t you dare say you’ve done it before, the last person you fell in love with was Tilly. And we were twelve.”

 

Lance went silent. Then he released a frustrated scream, kicking the gladiator and sending it crashing to the wall. “That’s stupid! Emotions are stupid!” His hoarse voice shouted out of frustration as he threw a sentry arm after his victim. For the first time in years, Fiero actually looked surprised by this action of Lance’s.

 

“It’s a given that they’re stupid. I mean, do you think I  _ wanted _ to fall in love with Sarpedon?”

 

“What?” He stopped his march to the next sentry appearing in sight to perish under his ungodly strength. “Pause training,” he called over his shoulder.

 

“It was just senseless flirting, like you with literally everyone our age, y’know? Hot Galra that’s on even Sheelo’s shit list for being a slippery bastard? I just had to take a bite outta him; poke his buttons. Didn’t do much harm at first. But he grew on me. Got a personality that would put Laxus to shame. By then I was in too deep,” Fiero said. Lance’s stomach twisted at the sight of one of his best friends, talking about his lover with such a fond look. He was  _ jealous _ of Fiero. Because he was loved more than Lance, who could definitely get as many one-night stands as he wanted. Even Tilly, sweet, innocent Tilly knew this. But Fiero had someone to confide in and cherish. “What I'm saying is, you don’t have a choice, man. None of us pick who we love.”

 

“But here’s where we split,” Lance said, the panel to his staff opening to give him his handle, a simple voice command restarting their training. Fiero didn’t mention that Lance had already been training for two vargas. “Sarpedon likes you enough to stay.”

  
  
  
  
  


 

Sheelo had taken Keith’s position as the Galra commander once it was certain that he wasn’t coming back. Lance had no problem with this- Sheelo was a wonderful leader that even led the original Altean Guard with a steady hand. But it gave Lance less interaction with his own soldiers beyond his close friends, as the soldiers were grouped into sections to get several units of training done in one day.

 

“Flight training? Again?” Vivi groaned, tossing her head back. She seemed tired and rugged for reasons Lance was, at the time, blissfully unaware of. “I’m absolute shit at piloting.”

 

“That’s why Sheelo put us into the longer rotation,” Laxus said, quirking a brow at her, untamed electric hair shifting beneath his helmet. Lance knew, on the other hand, that Sheelo did this because he knew that flying would distract him. Or maybe he didn’t, and Vivi had asked him to out of her concern for his health that often overwrote her own self-preservation. Either way, he appreciated it greatly. “None of us are great at this. ‘Cept for Lance.” 

 

“Of course I’m great at flying,” Lance said with a grin, popping an invisible collar. Several of his friends had already started groaning in preparation for what he said next. “I’m not called the Tailor for nothing.”

 

“No one calls you the tailor,” Chrysthan bluntly deadpanned.

 

“My mom does,” Genevieve said. She was the tallest of the group, making even Sarpedon look small. Lance was certain it was her shifting to taller heights. His mom often pointed out that she was always a foot and a half taller than Lance for as long as she could remember. Coran would confirm this. “Which isn’t really saying much. She adores you.”

 

Fiero snickered, hopping up the steps two at a time with Sarpedon far ahead. Wyx walked backward up the steps to the flying range, giving some sort of vivid story to the other Galra and Alteans in the group. “Yeah, she’s the only person on Altea who does.”

 

“Don’t discredit the rabid teenage girls of Altea, Fiero. They work very hard to tell Lance to take off his undersuit,” the resident jackass Laxus said. Lance’s face scrunched up, shooting a bitter glare to his friend. “What? We can’t deny the truth that half of Altea wants to fuck you for some reason.”

 

“Mystery of the ages,” Chrysthan mumbled.

 

“Nah, it’s simple,” Vivi said. Her curly blue hair was already a mess, despite the fact that they hadn’t done any training yet. Lance decided to try and sway her to his hair routine later. “Altea’s newer generation knows it's possible to get into Lance’s pants because he doesn’t use the title of being a prince anymore so we kinda forgot he’s technically above us. And that’s why Allura’s untouchable.”

 

“Curse you, Allura,” Lance dramatically said with his head tilted upwards, shaking a fist for emphasis. The rest of the alteans join in on cursing their beloved princess, almost like a strange before-training ritual. Genevieve was the only one who didn’t verbally curse her, ever the obnoxiously polite of the bunch. And, as the only responsible soldier, took it upon herself to remind everyone to not try and die in today’s practice, with a glare in Lance’s direction. He told her he’d try his damnedest not to.

 

 

 

 

  
  
☽ ♛ ☾

  
  
  
  
  
  


Keith didn’t look back when he left Lance in the plaza. He did this for three reasons. First, to avoid the stares of his soldiers, confused and shocked all the same. Second, to avoid giving Sheelo any incentive to follow him (even though he knew it to be inevitable). And third, to avoid seeing the damage he had done to Lance, the tears he would see from the corner of his eye. He knew it would have been enough to make him stay.

 

So he packed up his bags in a fit of tears, hot against his burning cheeks. At his ship, he let out a scream for every time Lance had smiled at him. Every time Lance had made him feel at home. Every time he had felt safe near him. Every time he was stupid enough to think that maybe Lance loved him, too. That he could let down the walls he built when his mother left on a mission with a promise that it was harmless and never returned.

 

“You don’t have to do this.” It reached his ears in a soft call, gentle and reassuring. His only voice of reason in a world full of expectations.

 

“Yes, I do. I can’t stay,” Keith said, refusing to turn to look at Sheelo. “Not if I keep feeling this way about Lance when he’s just going to hurt me.”

 

“He won’t hurt you. He doesn’t even want to hurt Xenomora.” The scar across the bridge of his nose and climbing to his left eye is fur-less. His eyes are aged and wise. And yet Keith chooses not to listen to the wisdom of the closest thing he had to a family, or of the soldier who trained him in his free time.

 

“Emotionally, Sheelo. You don’t know what it’s like, to not know why he won’t just  _ tell us _ what’s wrong. I can’t stand it, and you can't do anything to stop me from leaving,” He said, with a brief glance over his shoulders.

 

“I know. I won’t. But Lance lo-”

 

“You can train them.”

 

“What?”

 

“The soldiers. They’d rather have you, anyway. Zarkon only sent me because you asked specifically.” Keith had thought it to be a cruel punishment when he was told he was assigned to this task. And for a long time, he had thought that part of him to be stupid, that Lance may be a flirt but his marksmanship made up for it greatly. But at that time he was certain it was a cruel punishment after all.

 

Sheelo was quiet. Keith could only hear the sound of distant merry music and the wind rustling the grass around his dock.

 

“I can’t replace what you were to the soldiers.”

 

Keith left without replying to him. He knew full well what Sheelo’s implications were, words on repeat in his mind all the way back to Daibazaal’s refuge planet. Anyone could replace who he was to the soldiers. Generals like him can be forgotten.

 

But Sheelo couldn’t replace what Keith had built with Lance. It was impossible.

 

Then again, Keith couldn’t fix what he had broken with Lance.

  
  
  
  
  


 

Daibazaal’s refuge planet, officially named Abrelictus, was Keith and Sheelo’s home for as long as the two could remember. Keith had been born there between an Altean-Galra half-breed and his mother, and Sheelo’s father had been stationed there leading up to his death. Even now they had gotten a more modest living space, with three rooms to accommodate those who lived in it. A little half-breed by the name of Nephele took up the third room when they were home. Keith had found her half-dead and covered in dirt on a visit home from training, and took it upon himself to keep her alive. Not a day went by that he didn’t regret saving her.

 

Even if she became a tad  _ too _ helpful when she reached the age of twelve moons.

 

Upon returning home he expected her to be minding her own business or meandering around the empty house. Instead, she was frozen atop their rickety table, fists held up as if ready to fight. “You’re not supposed to be back until the holidays,” she said simply with wide eyes. Keith made no move to explain himself, only cocking a brow at her. As her way of greeting went, she hopped from the table and made her way to him, a hand extended to the general area of his face. To feel what he felt on his time away. Steeling himself with closed eyes, Keith accepted the inevitable and tried to block all memories of Lance from his mind. Instead, her smooth hand only hovered next to his face. He opened his eyes to see Nephele staring up at him with furrowed brows, her cloudy eyes concerned. “You’re not supposed to be back until the holidays,” she repeated.

 

“Right,” Keith croaked, glancing warily to her small hand. Next to her, he seemed tall. “Something changed.”

 

“Will you let me see it?” She asked. It was an innocent question. She always asked him to show her his missions and all that he felt on them if she deemed them to be dangerous. It made her happy, to understand Keith in some way. Sheelo always found that amusing. How even the empath was perplexed by him.

 

“No. I don’t think you’ll like this one.”

 

“Oh, cosmos above - ” She began, before stopping herself. She coughed into a purple hand as if to steady herself. Then her cloudy yellow eyes looked up at him- all three of them. “I want to, Keith. Please.”

 

He told her maybe later. He used that same excuse for a month before she took his sword during his after-practice shower and threatened him with it. Even then, he reminded her she wouldn’t like it.

 

“Keith, you leave on the opportunity of a lifetime and come back a few months into it. And from what Sheelo showed me, you were happy. I don’t care if I don’t like it,” Nephele said, sword still in her left hand. She handed it back to Keith once she was certain he wouldn’t go back on his word. “It’s bothering you.” And indeed it was- the whole situation was eating Keith alive. He thought of ways to apologize, all situations leading to more disaster. To him, it was unfixable no matter what approach he took. If he went during training, the soldiers would know more than they knew. Which was little, if Sarpedon kept his trap shut for once.

 

So he showed it to her. It only took a tick, going from gentle laughter and a soft touch to her third eye blinking rapidly and claws digging into his neck by the end of it. He tucked bright pink hair behind her ear as if it could comfort her in some way. “Why did you leave?” Nephele asked. Her grip on his neck lightened, but her two eyes remained closed and brows furrowed. Keith didn’t say anything. She knew why fully well. She just . . . didn’t understand. Her eyes opened, wide and glaring. “If you love him enough to cry over him, why didn’t you stay?”

 

“I don’t know. I did back then. But now-”

 

“Shut up and get your shit.”

 

“ _ Language  _ \- Nebulas, I’m turning into Sheelo - and why should I pack my bags?”

 

“Because you’re too stubborn and stupid to fix this on your own. So I, your wonderful sister, will clean up this disaster you and Commander Lance created. And I want to see Altea.” Her way of ‘cleaning up’ was undoubtedly to stand next to Keith until he said what she deemed to be an acceptable apology.

 

“Neph, you’re not going to fix this, it’s too la-”

 

“I’ll get Princess Allura involved.” 

 

“I’ll be ready in a tick.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

Nephele was silent the whole trip back to Altea. Even when they landed, she seldom spoke a word. Keith could only assume that any questions she had were answered by the tiny hand holding his. She was even patient with Keith’s painfully slow pace. The only time she spoke on their search for Lance was when Allura saw them, did a double take, and froze completely in their way. Nephele said nothing at first, watching as she looked from one to the other. Then, with a resigned shrug, Allura marched up to Keith and knocked the wind out of him. “You deserved that,” Nephele said as she winced in Keith’s sudden change of emotions.

 

Keith could only nod. Allura regarded him with a bitter look. “He’s at the flight range. You better have a damn good apology, or the Guard might leave you for dead in a field.” Her gaze softened at the sight of Nephele. “Welcome to Altea, young one.”

 

“Thank you, Princess.”

 

“Her name’s Nephele,” Keith managed with a wheeze, the empath holding his hand shifting to a sudden burst of pride, before looking utterly confused at Keith. “And I’ll try. If Lance is willing to listen.”

 

He almost didn’t hear Allura’s whispered reply as he continued on to the flight range.

 

“He’s more than willing by this point.”

  
  
  
  
  


 

☽ ♛ ☾

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

Lance thought that his group was coming along nicely in the terms of flight. Laxus had recently learned how to  _ not _ take out his side of the fight when turning, and Vivi could now do flips. Horrible flips, but they were flips. He'd give her that.

“No, I’m telling you, if you smile more you’ll get significantly better at combat,” Laxus was saying to Chrysthan. It was Laxus’ eternal mission to get Chrysthan to smile, privately named ‘help Chrysthan get laid’ by the Guard when the subject of the mission wasn’t present.

 

“I can confirm this,” Vivi added with a very serious nod, “I’m shit at throwing blades without my sense of humor to help.”

 

Lance turned his head to Fiero and Sarpedon to keep from convincing Chrysthan any further, who was walking backward with arms draped around each other. Fiero was holding out his communicator to a plethora of soldiers. “Her name is Wispe, and I would gladly die for her if the situation arises,” he was saying.

 

“You’ve only known her for a day,” Sarpedon deadpanned.

 

“It changes absolutely nothing, lovebug. She’s a wonderful creature who I’ll defend with my life.”

 

He didn’t have to look at the communicator to know they were talking about a cat. It was a very Fiero thing to do, he thought as he felt a smile creep across his lips, pace sped up to catch up with Genevieve. And then he stopped completely. 

 

Following his lead, the rest of the Guard halted their journey, with Fiero and Sarpedon crashing into Genevieve and Wyx. None of them batted an eye, giving Lance a sidelong look. Watching to see what he’d do. He blinked once, seeing how the nervous look on the familiar Galra’s face only deepened, seldom reflected on the child’s face beside him. She stared at Lance in some sort of confusion, her three eyes rapidly blinking and free hand fidgeting with curly pink hair. From the color of her skin and the way her ears were shaped, she looked Galra. Even the pattern on her face was screaming in resemblance. But everything else was Valafatian. Her hair, eyes, animalistic legs, and lack of height. There was no doubt in Lance’s mind on this.

 

Which begged the following questions. First, why did he bring an empath? And second- why did Keith come back in the first place?

 

“Go on ahead, guys,” Lance said, his own voice barely audible over the sound of his own nerves and worries. “I’ll uh . . . Catch up later.”

 

A mumbled chorus of ‘sures’ and ‘alrights’ reached Lance as he marched on, soldiers awkwardly shuffling away.

 

“So,” Lance said, staring at his feet rather than Keith, who seemed to be doing the same. “You came back.”

 

“I was forced,” Keith mumbled with a glance to the child, who had let go of Keith’s hand. Lance nearly felt his heart crash to the floor, before he saw the Galra whip his head up, yellow eyes wide. “Not that- Not that I didn’t want to come back! I did, I just didn’t think you’d listen to what I had to say, and I feel really bad and-”

 

“ _ Keith _ ,” the child hissed, “Gather your words before you speak.”

 

“Right,” the Galra said with a shaking breath. “Nephele, go join the Guard. I’m sure they’d love to meet you,” he said with a soft voice. It was a tone Lance had never heard him use. Nephele gave the two one last look, nose scrunching before she nodded and marched up to the group of soldiers still meandering off. Eavesdropping. Lance allowed his Guard to listen, turning his gaze back to Keith. “Lance, everything I said was really stupid, and even if it’s what I think, I shouldn’t have gone about it like that. It’s just that I . . . really want to trust you. I want you to trust  _ me _ . But it’s hard for me to . . . let people in.”

 

“Yeah,” Lance agreed quietly. He knew that Keith had more to say, an explanation just barely beneath the surface of a shell he built. “I know. I always knew that. It was just- You’re close with Sheelo. Even I knew that long before you decided to come to Altea. He knows you’re not like  _ that _ , and we know that, too. So just seeing you act like you couldn’t trust for him to know that you had grown close to us was hard. And it really hurt me, ‘cuz I was  _ so close _ to getting you to tell me more about yourself. Like I didn’t even know Nephele existed until a dobash ago! Which is actually pretty impressive because even I would slip up and mention something like her at some point, but still. You don’t have to be afraid to trust us.”

 

“And you don’t have to be afraid to tell me how you’re actually feeling,” Keith added. A scornful look crossed his face for a brief second, before melting into how he actually felt. Hurt. Of course. Lance should have known that it all came back to him. It was cause and effect. The cause being Lance’s unwillingness to show any sort of hurt due to being shut out or ignored- what Vivi calls ‘bringing down their moods’ as an umbrella term. The effect being Keith’s hesitance to trust him. 

 

“Oh. Right. That.”

 

The two fell into silence, both searching for something to say. Lance was the first to come up with an idea, sticking his hand out to a shocked Keith. “Hi, I’m Lance of Altea, and I’ll tell you if I’m feeling like shit instead of pretending I’m fine.”

 

“I’m Keith of Abrelictus, And from now on, I’m actually going to tell you about myself instead of shutting you out. Pleasure to meet you,” Keith said, easily going along with it. The act of telling Lance what planet he actually came from alone meant the world to him. So often had he seen Keith go silent when his soldiers spoke of their home planets. Now he knew why. He believed that no one wanted to know that their leader was a refuge managing by. So Lance brings out his award-winning smile, entirely genuine, shaking his comrade’s hand.

 

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

 

 

 

 

 

Lance and Keith decided that the guard would be fine with having Nephele for the rest of the day (It gave them an excuse to not train), and spent the remainder of their day seated on the edge of one of the many bridges on Altea.

 

“The deal with Nephele?” Keith repeated, some sort of puzzled look on his face. Lance nodded in confirmation, kicking his legs back and forth with an eye on the double-sided dagger he nervously fidgeted with. “She’s a half-breed I found a long time ago. Sheelo and I usually take her on missions depending on who has the least dangerous station.”

 

“So . . . She’s like your kid?”

 

“No! No, nothing like that. I guess . . . I’m to her what Sheelo is to me?”

 

“Begrudging adoptive sibling?” Lance guessed. “Wait- Altea isn’t dangerous! Why the hell didn’t you bring her?”

 

Keith deadpanned Lance. “Your sadistic team-bonding exercise.”

 

“Understandable. Nephele’s an empath, right?” He asked, craning his head to survey Keith. He nodded, twirling the blade over twice. “Why does she insist on holding your hand, then?”

 

“She likes to understand me. The way that I act and talk is confusing to her. And from the looks of it, you’re the same to her. Maybe even worse.”

 

“Oh, rad, I beat you in something for once. I might be better than you at something after all.”

 

Keith seemed taken aback by that. Lance wanted to take it back, make up an excuse. But that would mean breaking the unspoken agreement that he would talk to him. “You’re not beneath me, Lance. We’re at the same skill and ranking. Just . . . specializing in different departments.”

 

“I know, I know. But you’re just so amazing, y’know? And I’m Lance.”

 

“I’m not amazing. Everyone’s got flaws.”

 

“Even you?”

 

“Especially me. Lance, I got pissed at a bird for looking at me funny yesterday.”

 

“That's . . . I don’t know whether to be disappointed by that or laugh,” Lance said with a small laugh. Like most laughs around Keith, it was genuine and at peace. 

 

“Neither do I,” Keith said. He seemed to be smiling because Lance was smiling, but trained it on the sky. The twinkle in his eye said everything else for him.

 

 

 

 

 

“Favorite color?”

 

“Red,” Keith said easily, without a glance to Lance. He gestured to the red lining of his jacket, tugging on one of the red cuffs. Lance blinked in surprise. And, as Lance often went, said the first terrible pick-up line to come to mind.

 

“Mine’s blue. Wanna make purple?”

 

“Oh my cosmos.” Keith let out a barking laugh, covering his mouth with an arm.

 

“Was it that bad?” Lance asked innocently, leaning to put his face in Keith’s view. Yellow irises looked at him with amusement. 

 

“They’re not all terrible. It’s just surprising how fast you come up with these.” Keith then froze, as if he had slipped up and said something he wasn’t supposed to. Lance knew that he had no intention of actually allowing these words to leave his lips, and the implication made his ears burn and silent thanks to Blaytz for teaching him how to flirt on his mind.

 

“I learned from the best,” He said with a cocky grin, his burning ears and cheeks having given him entirely away. Thankfully Keith was none the wiser.

  
  
  
  


“Childhood role model?”

 

“Sheelo.”

 

“Blaytz.”

 

“I’m not surprised in the slightest,” Keith sighed.

 

“Neither am I. Who knew we were so obvious?” Lance said with a laugh. Keith said Hedwidge, probably.

 

“My turn- What’s your favorite Altean tradition?”

 

“The festivals. There’s just something about being able to be seen as nothing more than just another dance partner, whether you’re a Paladin of Voltron, a princess, or just a commander. Just you, a partner, and the music all around you. What’s your favorite tradition?”

 

“The same thing. Except my district makes it a family thing during the Holidays of the Stars- the people who have no family dance together and those who do play music for them. Sheelo and I always make time to go back home around that time.”

 

“That sound’s nice.”

 

“It is.”

 

“Next question- Can I meet Nephele? Like, actually meet her?” Lance asked, the question having been beating with his heart since he heard she was intrigued and confused by him.

 

Keith lifted his chin up, resting it on a rail. He stared sideways at Lance for a few ticks. “I don’t see why not. She’ll want to see your emotions, though,” He advised.

 

Lance told him that he had lots to share, anyway. Like that one time, Allura pantsed an old castle worker because he told her she couldn’t leave the castle.

 

Keith told him to not give her ideas.

  
  
  
  
  


“You guys patched things up?” Vivi asked from where she was lounging on the training deck, her awfully messy ponytail now a wonderfully intricate braid done by much smaller hands than her lover’s. Lance thanked her for pointing out the obvious.

 

“Thank the Cosmos at that,” Laxus added from his own dog-pile on Fiero and Sarpedon. The rest of the soldiers were in similar states, strewn around the floor or resting against any surface they found. The only person standing was Genevieve, with Nephele seated on her shoulders like an almighty deity. 

 

“She wanted to be tall,” Genevieve briefly explained.

 

“I like her emotions,” Nephele said to Keith, her innocent eyes blinking up at him. “They’re very caring.”

 

“Genevieve’s the mom of our guard for that reason alone,” Lance said, already bouncing down the stairs five steps at a time. Soon enough he was staring up at the empath, a grin on his face. “And because she’s like, ninety-percent of our impulse control.”

 

“You’d all be dead without me,” She said as she crouched to the ground for Nephele to climb down. She ruffed Genevieve’s short-cropped purple hair as thanks. 

 

“Yes we would. Everyone, thank Genevieve,” Lance said to the squadron. A chorus of ‘thank you, Gens’ rang from the scattered soldiers.

 

“Nephele, Lance. Lance, Nephele,” Keith simply said, gesturing between the two.

 

“Yo,” Lance simply said as a greeting. “I see you’ve run my men into the ground.”

 

“No, that was all Lieutenant Genevieve. I only helped, Commander Lance.”

 

Lieutenant. That was something new to Lance and his guard- but she wasn’t wrong. They were all the highest ranked soldiers beneath him, but they had no name. “Still. Good work. Keith here told me you’re an empath. That right?”

 

“I thought it was obvious,” Nephele said in a low voice, eyes narrowing in a suspicious look. 

 

“It is.”

 

“Oh, thank the Nebulas. I thought I looked more Galra than I originally thought for a tick.”

 

“What’s wrong with looking like a Galra?” Keith asked with a pointed glare to the grinning girl staring up at him. Lance, as he often went, decided to comfort Keith in a newfound act of chivalry stemmed from his mending heart.

 

“Absolutely nothing, Keith. You’re beautiful,” Lance chirped. Though his tone was joking, his words were entirely sincere. Keith gave him a brief glare before avoiding to look at him entirely. A curious look crossed Nephele’s face. Silently, she held a hand out to him. 

 

“Can I see?” She asked. Genevieve gave Lance a look threatening him to try and turn her down as if he hadn’t already decided that he would willingly die for this child a few dobashes ago. Lance nodded, leaning down to her level. She placed a hand on his cheek, eyes unblinking. She went through several mood changes in the course of a tick, but she doesn’t cry like Lance expected her to. Then her eyes sparkle, a fond and knowing look crossing her face as she looked from him to Keith. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” she said. Then Nephele left Lance and Keith in confusion, giving some excuse about finding Sheelo to tell him she’s stuck here since both of them were now stationed on Altea.

 

“She was looking for something specific,” Keith explained as they watched her climb the stairs. “A specific feeling at a specific moment.”

 

“Why?” Lance asked, feeling more puzzled with empaths than he had before. Keith’s brows furrowed as if he struggled between two options. But knowing Keith, this much was no doubt true.

 

“I . . . don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update again. It took a lot out of me to write this because I just COULDN'T figure out how to make the story move. However, Keith's Vlog fixed that right up and helped me figure out some kinks in how he would apologize and shit. But I promise next chapter will (hopefully) be better!


	8. Perseus

Lance is, officially, the most reckless and idiotic person in the galaxy. To review, the castle had been invaded right under their damn noses. If Lance had half the sense he would have known a Rover-not-Rover was wired to go off the second he saw the robot hover past him. Instead, he had remained wrapped up in helping Coran fix a loose panel in the wall. So when he finally caught on to the distant ticking a tick too late, he had thrown himself in front of the blast and thrown Coran out of the way.

  


Which then put him out of action for the entire chaotic battle that Shiro and Pidge fought while he was down under. During their patient explanation of what he had missed, they let it slip that Lance had woken up from his comatose to shoot Sendak with a lethal aim.

  


“I can’t imagine what you were thinking,” Shiro says in that tired voice of his. 

  


“Mhm,” Lance says, downing his mouthful of food goo before continuing, “If It’s anything like the other times I wake up, I probably thought I was still fighting the fight against the Galra and reacted out of instinct.” He gives a wary glance to Allura as he says this, paying no mind to how she places her hand on the bruise he left on her neck a few quintents ago. “I never cease to amaze myself, same with these little buggers,” Lance says on a lighter note, flashing his blinding smile to his comrades as he offers a spoon of food goo to the mice gathered on the table.

  


“You only amaze yourself, Lance,” Pidge chides from his perch. 

  


Hunk tells him that that was rude.

  


“Oh, trust me, I can amaze people in  _ so many _ different wa - “ Lance is cut off by Allura harshly tugging on his ear. “Ow, ow!” He shrieks, furiously slamming his palm on the table in surrender.

  


“We’re headed to the Balmera after this,” Allura says cooly, a smug grin playing on her lips as she looks out to the rest of the team and ignored Lance’s complaints. “To liberate the planet.”

  


“And so Hunk can see his rock girlfri - “

  


“ -  _ Shay _ is not my rock girlfriend - “

  


“ - Yo, what? Hunk found love where I was out? Someone put me into comatose more often. Maybe next time Zarkon’ll drop dead - “

  


“Everyone, focus,” Shiro chastises from where he stands. Immediately, their mouths clamp shut and Lance resumes poking at his bland meal.

  


“Thank you, Shiro. Like I was saying, we’ll need everyone at full attention to be able to pull this off without a red paladin. Even if you all are on good enough terms, I don’t want any argument breaking out and abolishing the team formation.” The glare she throws to Lance doesn’t go unnoticed.

  


He pretends not to notice.

  


“Got it?”

  


“Got it, princess,” the paladins chirp in unison.

  


“And  _ no splitting up _ .” This time, the glare is cast to both Lance and Pidge.

  


“That was  _ one time _ !” the tiny green paladin shrieks. Then they all turn to a silent Lance, who blinks at them after a good few ticks of straight up ignoring them.

  


“I’m not even going to try and justify my actions,” he says with a shrug and another spoonful of food goo, “Nor am I making any promises. If anyone on the Balmera is in trouble, I’m helping.”

  


“La - ”

  


“Nope! Not listening!”

  


“Okay,” Allura says, releasing a resigned sigh. “I won’t fight you on that. But if any of you split from the team, make sure you aren’t jeopardizing the entire planet. As much as I hate to say this, risking some lives for hundreds is just something we’ll have to accept.”

“Translation; man up. Team meeting adjourned. Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” Hunk says, obviously anxious to return to the Balmera. Though Lance will later tease him on this, he understands why he so direly wants to save them. They are helpless under Galra control, forced to work against their own culture and values.

  


“Wait,” Pidge says, as Lance is about to push his chair back in, “before we go, I have to tell you something. I can’t man up,” he bluntly says, Lance only blinking in confusion as his mind scrambles to form its own reasoning. “I’m a girl,” he - no, she - explains. Vague familiarity flashes in Shiro’s eyes, as if he just saw the Cosmos take living form in front of his eyes.

  


“Oh, I knew that,” Allura admits. The rest of the team shows similar sentiments.

  


“I didn’t,” Lance adds. In all honesty, he had been too wrapped up in constantly checking up on Keith and mourning the loss of his staff (thanks, Hedwidge, you little fucking thief), which the castle was struggling to replicate, to notice that Pidge was a girl. But it wasn’t as if he cared, even if he was too oblivious to notice at first. “But cool, I guess?”

  


“‘Cool, I guess,’ he says,” Pidge mumbles, following Coran as he leads the paladins to the control room. “Response of the ages.”

  


“Truly, I am the spokesperson of the universe.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


“We’re ready for take-off,” Coran calls out to Allura, who only spares him a glance from where she stands. “On your call, princess.”

  


“Thank you, Coran.” She exhales, and as if her breath is enough, lights burst to life all around the paladins. The castle remains silent for a few ticks, the room growing eerily silent save for Allura’s steady breathing and everyone else’s lack thereof. Then, in a sudden rumbling burst of energy, the castle lifts up from the ground and Pidge grabs onto Hunk for support. Once it is certain that they won’t suddenly go crashing back to Arus, Pidge and Hunk whoop and cheer, slinging their arms around Lance’s shoulder and pulling Shiro into the group huddle. Lance gives Coran a fist bump, which the advisor returns with enthusiasm and flourish. For the first time since he woke up so many quintents ago, Lance feels the contentment of being surrounded by those familiar enough to be called his friends. How nothing else in the world matters- not the fact that his friends from his childhood are dead, or how the paladins are only  _ children _ thrown into a war they didn’t ask to fight. And for Lance and Allura- to replace the two people that they never in a million years would think to be capable of dying. None of it. Just a bunch of laughing and whooping kids hanging on to the last of their innocence before it would be too late.

  


Lance missed feeling that way.

  


“Oh! Paladins, look!” Coran chirps, gesturing to the viewing deck. In an instant Lance is dragging Hunk and Pidge to the deck with him, Shiro staying back with Coran. They let out little ‘oohs’ of awe, taking in the vast space now viewable, Lance pinpointing any planets he vaguely recognizes in the distance. Hunk and Pidge listen quietly, saying nothing on how Lance’s eyes dance and shimmer with a release of finally being able to see the galaxy after so long spent on Apocrypha and Arus.

  


They simply allow him to revel in his own little world before the rush of battle and danger returns.

  
  
  
  
  


“Okay, team, let’s get out there. Are you coming to the Balmera, princess?” Shiro asks once the planet comes into view, Allura blinking down at him from where she stands.

  


“Yes. I want to help heal the planet if I can. And Lance - ” 

  


“I know,” he says, shrugging the helmet resting on his hip back into place, “If it’s bad enough I’ll help.”

  


“No, I wouldn’t ask that of you after what you went through. I just wanted to remind you to  _ be safe _ . Even if we have the cryo-pods at the ready, that doesn’t mean you can recklessly throw yourself into danger.” She says this fiercely, with a smoldering gaze to boot.

  


“Someone’s gotta do it,” Lance says with a simple shrug of his shoulders, feigning nonchalance before he sees the worry etched into her face. Then his gaze softens, and his voice becomes ghostly quiet. “and I never do anything that isn’t necessary. But I’ll be safe, Ally.”

  


“Promise?” She asks in a quiet voice, fiddling with her helmet in both hands.

  


“On the Cosmos and all things held holy.” He says this while meeting her eyes, serious in every aspect. It was the one seldom thing to witness in Lance before a battle, a peculiar occurrence that Genevieve often said only came when he wanted his words to be heard. He places a hand on her shoulder as he passes, headed to the passage that leads to Blue’s hangar.

  


“Lance! Wait!” Coran calls. Freezing in place, the blue paladin turns around to see his comrades in similar positions and Coran running at full speed with a holograph in front of him. There’s a sparkle in his eyes unmistakable to anyone who’s spent more than ten ticks around him. “There’s an update - ” he wheezes, hunching over and shoving the holograph to Lance with the flick of his wrist. The report shows a heartbeat that has peaked to a normal state, all wounds long healed, and emotions shifting from a blank status to an array of many emotions to the point that Lance can barely keep track. There is no doubt in Lance’s mind about it -  “ - Keith is waking up.”

  


Lance’s head whips to Shiro, his blue eyes wild. Beneath them, Blue and Red let out two thundering roars that rattle Lance’s bones. The black paladin looks to Allura, the two communicating in such a way that Lance is unable to translate it through their body language alone. Then Shiro nods at Allura with a solemn look, turning his head to Lance. “Be swift,” he only says with a ghost of a smile. 

  


“Godspeed, man!” tA grinning Hunk calls from his entryway as Lance steps back into the tube connected to Blue’s hangar. Pidge gives him a thumbs up.

  


“Try not to die,” she says.

  


“I’ll try not to,” Lance says with his flashing smile as he slams his helmet over his head, patting the top twice before the door closes.

  


And then he falls.

  


  


  


  


  


☽ ♛ ☾

  


  


  


  


  


  
  
Keith has a fuzzy recognition that he’s stuck in a state of awake and whatever the hell ‘stasis’ is called in consciousness. He knows that something is off in the reality beyond him. but instead, gets stuck on one memory in the seconds before he’s falling from his cryo-pod. It was years ago when Lance had had enough of Keith trying to find him after training and ending up lost and calling him on his communicator with a quiet and defeated admittance to being lost, and decided to give him a tour of the Castle of Lions. 

  


Lance had dared him to climb the tallest tree in the courtyard, much to all Altean staff protests. And Keith, having taken the most ridiculous dares given by Lance (like the one time he was dared to try and take Asher’s scarf when he wasn’t looking (tip: do  _ not _ take the scarf Asher’s mother gave him)), looked him straight in the eye and told him that he was fucking on. With Ryl and Wyx now standing at the bottom and cheering, Keith had begun his ascent up the tree with Lance following close on the other side of the tree.  And they just kept climbing and climbing, until all viewers were nothing but distant voices. Lance kept talking about everything and nothing as he does, Keith too busy with his task at hand to respond. But he hung onto every word as if it was the most important information in the universe. He remembers thinking to himself,  _ Cosmos, I love this idiot _ , as he broke to the top of the tree.

  


“See! Cool view, right?” Lance asked from his safe spot to the left, where he then kicked his legs back and forth with that bright smile that Laxus often said was blinding. And, like always, Laxus was right.  _ Of course. Even if you did trick me into getting up here _ , Keith was about to say.

  


And then, of course, that’s when Keith fell. He remembers hitting the ground with a curse loud enough that he thought Gyrgan could hear him from galaxies away, and Lance quick at his side with a storm of apologies and offers to take him to the infirmary. Keith had kissed him promptly on the spot, without any regard to the two soldiers gagging or his arm long numb. 

  


Later he would find out through Raylond no less that he had a broken arm, and was forced into a cryo-pod with much struggle and fuss. And when he came to, Lance would ask him why he just kissed him like the world wasn’t there and it was just the two of them in empty space.

  


And Keith would tell him why, without any hesitation or doubt.

  
  
  
  
  


Because he came to get him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this week! I wanted to try and get five thousand as usual but the content of the chapter just didn't have enough content to fit that quota. But mama ain't raise no little bitch and you bet I wasn't going to bring myself to put out a chapter with a thousand words, so just deal with the end of chapter Keith POV that bridges to chapter ten.


	9. Gemini

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THE NOTES FOR SOME IMPORTANT BIZ, YEAH?
> 
> (also P.S, one of Hedwidge's logs fills in something very important and vital that happened before this chapter!)

“Okay, okay,” Lance called above the roar of chatter, his guard pulling away their mugs in desperation to save their drink as he scrambled atop the table, standing proudly above his soldiers with alcohol in hand. “Everyone shut up! I gotta toast to make!”

 

Immediately, the tavern fell into obedient silence, watching as Lance offered a hand to Keith. The two then had a silent conversation in which Lance gestured to Fiero briefly, and realization dawned upon Keith before he immediately took the arm offered to him and hauled himself to the table. “To Fiero and Sarpedon!” He called, raising his chalice high in the sky. An array of similar chalices rose to that before he continued, “may your union end up as prosperous as it has been in the months leading up to it.” Celebratory whoops erupted from Lance’s guard all around him mixed with a yelp from the former soldier, Vivi having socked Fiero’s shoulder so hard that Hedwidge chastised her doggedly for the next forty ticks as Lance’s rowdy friends settled down.

 

“And to those of us who scored high enough in princess Allura’s assessments to join the paladins on their next missions. Though we ourselves will be joining you, your victory shouldn’t be undermined by ours.” Keith gave Xenomora a twinkling look as he continued, “You have all exceeded our expectations and then some.”

 

At this, the soldiers burst into the loudest combination of  ‘Pokiaľ Noci’ and ‘Salus’ Lance had ever heard in his pitiful time serving as a commander of the Daibazaal and Altean unit, their chalices held high and clashing in with their fellow comrades’ own glasses. Keith and Lance might have even been two of the loudest, competing to be louder than the other with grins that seldom faded.

 

When Lance and Keith had hopped down from the table without a drop of alcohol spilled, the festivities in the hall had resumed once more. The united mischief of Vivi helping with Hedwidge’s side projects had resumed, and Fiero and Sarpedon were fastening a rope trap for Chrysthan to walk into. Lance could assist either couple and force Keith to go along with it, he theorized, or even join Genevieve and Laxus as they held up their reputation as the most friendliest of his guard. But instead he leaned over to Keith watching the festivities with a steady eye and whispered, “Do you want to get out of here?”

 

Keith’s expression didn’t shift- didn’t change. He still had that focused look that had Lance convinced he was related to Sheelo by blood. But his response didn’t hesitate as he slipped his hand into Lance’s and shifted his yellow eyes to him with that focused look. “Yes,” he said in such a quiet voice that betrayed his expression entirely. But not his face. His eyes were just as wild and skittish, held steady by looking at Lance and nothing else.

 

And so the two left through a back door, unseen and unheard through the night. At least, as far as they were concerned. Unbeknownst to Lance at the time, Laxus had taken note of their disappearance and hailed the guard (plus Sarpedon and Hedwidge), much to Chrysthan’s protests and Genevieve’s persistence of defending their privacy. Then they had taken to the shadows, always a couple steps behind them. Eventually they had gotten bored of seeing nothing but two idiots on a walk and talking about nothing of interest and left. 

 

Their departure affected nothing in Lance and Keith’s contentment of one another and their pointless conversations.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A week later, Lance had enlisted the help of Keith and Nephele to be the worst possible wake-up call the soldiers would ever have the displeasure of being on the receiving end of. They made as much noise conceivable, raising all hell with unholy shouts mimicked by a device borrowed from Coran, and the accursed lake-water poured on Lance’s guard as vengeance for blackmailing Keith. Because blackmail Lance and he’ll be fine- but Keith had done nothing for anything to be held against him. To Lance, at least, that’s what his reasoning was. The guard would tell you that Lance just wanted vengeance for years of jokes he couldn’t think of comebacks for.

 

Then, with the soldiers then disgruntled and blindly seeking their squadron for the mission that day and very much awake, Keith had thrown Nephele into Sheelo’s room and said ‘your turn’, signaling farewell as the door slid shut. 

 

And then a few vargas later, the paladins finally decided to wake up. They were void of Zarkon, Lance duly noted as a commander trained to take not of even the most common occurrences. But the side of him that was, in fact, still related to the royal family knew that Zarkon had drifted away, and Keith’s partnership with him was Zarkon’s (kinda half-assed) attempt at fixing the severed bond with Voltron. Well, Lance thought, at least something good came out of that.

 

Allura entered with Alfor and Coran, dressed in her flight-suit only used when she trained with the guard. She acknowledged Keith with a small smile, and Lance with an elbow to the ribs, with Alfor quietly telling her to not elbow her poor brother in the ribs.

 

Trigel and Gyrgan each gave Lance a high five as they passed, nodding in acknowledgement to Keith. Blaytz was the last to enter, bursting in with a blast of energy as he all but tackled Lance, executing a bizarrely complicated handshake with the commander. “It’s been so long, squirt!” The blue paladin chirped, bringing Lance into a sudden headlock and ruffling his hair, smiling all the while.

“I know! The fuck was up with that, man? You’re the one with the all-mighty lion here. I got responsibilities here,” Lance said, slugging his mentor in the shoulder. “Like Keith. He’s a responsibility in himself.”

 

“Lance, there were so many things wrong with what you just said I’m going to pretend you didn’t say anything.” Blaytz then turned to Keith, Lance still in a headlock. Then he looked down to Lance. “I still don’t understand your taste in partners.”

 

“That’s respectable. Keith, say hi to Blaytz so he’ll let me go.”

 

“And then I want you to j ump like a spritely clovenheifer in a circle,” Blaytz quickly added.

 

“Hello, Blaytz. And I’m not gonna jump around like a clovenheifer. I may be willing to give Lance many things, but my dignity is not one of them.”

 

“Then you’re going to have to tell my mama, Coran, and Nephele that I love them, and I’ll see them on the other side. But not Allura or Alfor. If I’m going down, I’m bringing them with me,” said Lance in a dead-serious tone.

 

“I’ll make sure to tell them that,” Keith said with a soft laugh that made Blaytz drop Lance to the ground out of pure shock.

 

“Sorry, little dude. Didn’t mean to drop ya. You alright?”

 

“Oh, yeah, doing  _ just peachy _ ," drawled the prince on the ground, his head inclining to shout,  "Gens!”

 

“What?”

 

“Pick me up, please?” Lance asked his towering comrade, batting his eyes innocently at her.

 

“Why not have Keith do it?” She asked, eyeing him warily. He deadpanned at her from his spot on the ground.

 

“Because he would drop me immediately.”

 

“He’s not wrong,” Keith said, but still held his hand out to Lance, who still took it and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet, regardless of the possibility of being dropped. And they would have as they were, with Lance’s hand in Keith’s, if Allura hadn’t called them over.

  
  
  
  


Blaytz called dibs on Lance and Keith. Trigel had cursed under her breath and told him that he can’t just call dibs on both head commanders. 

 

“You can have Chrysthan. He’s  _ such _ a charmer,” Lance called, giving his best shit-eating grin to the green paladin. “Absolutely essential for diplomatic missions.”

 

“ . . . . Yeah, no, I’m going to take Geneveive. Gyrgan can take Chrysthan. They have a lot in common. Like not liking small talk,” Trigel said, high-fiving Geneveive as she passed. To enunciate her point, she gestured vaguely to Gyrgan, who stood silently with folded arms and a peaceful smile. “Everyone else, you’re free to pick who you want to go with. Remember, Alfor and Blaytz are going to Heliaes, which is currently under high levels of danger, and Lance and Keith being there alongside them will not guarantee protection. We may be paladins and they may be your commanders, but this does not make us invincible.”

 

“That’s reassuring,” Lance heard an Altean soldier by the name of Quille mutter before the Galra soldier standing next to him slapped her hand over his mouth. None of the paladins said anything on his comment, but Allura seemed to be glaring daggers at him, from Coran’s quiet murmuring.

 

“Yeah, never go to Trigel to be told you’re gonna be fine,” Blaytz said, absently fist-bumping Elyria and Fiero as they joined his squadron. “She’s terrible at telling us what we want to hear.”

 

“What you want to hear is never what you need to hear.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alfor and Blaytz’s united squadron, in the end, was composed of Elyria, Xenomora, Fiero, Sarpedon, Laxus, Quille, Vulpes, Akmi, Hiro, Kylran, several other soldiers who Lance couldn’t remember the names of for the life of him, Lance and Keith as expected, with Coran and Allura joining them much against Alfor’s protests. Allura had put her foot down, looked him in the eye and said that he couldn’t expect her to rule when he’s gone if she can’t be subjected to something like this. Vivi and Geneveive went with Trigel (Vivi kept muttering something about distracting Hedwidge and cryo-pod tech), leaving Chrysthan, Wyx, and Ryl with Gyrgan. Which, in the end, worked out well for everyone. Wyx and Ryl accepted Chrysthan with open arms and Geneveive had Vivi to assist her in emergency combat if need be. 

 

Which left the united squadron to fend for themselves.

 

“Remember,” Alfor was saying for about the hundredth time, “running off on your own is a death sentence.”

 

“What about yourself and Keith, your majesty?” Vulpes asked, her curious face blinking in the screen on Blue’s left panel. Blaytz fought back a smile at that, eyeing Alfor on a separate panel while Lance gave a knowing look to his scoffing Galra partner. 

 

“Well - I mean - that’s kind of - ”

 

“Keith and King Alfor will be fine if they run off,” Blaytz interjected, “Even if I’d rather the two stay with us, it’s not the end of the world if they leave. Besides, Lance would go after them, as would Allura. And if they go, so will Laxus and Fiero, which would get Kylran and Elyria to follow, which would get Xenomora and Sarpedon to follow.”

 

“We have a very serious pack mentality,” Laxus said, solemnly nodding in his profile.

 

“Which is a good thing,” Keith piped up from his own portrait. “Fewer chances someone dies.”

 

“ _ No one _ is going to die,” Lance said, glaring at Keith’s portrait. “You all ranked high in Allura’s assessment for a reason. Right?”

 

“Well, obviously. And you all, for the most part, have been able to work well together before. My only concern for this squadron is what happens when two favorites of the re - sorry, when the two people I know that have a tendency to split away from the team are working together, and when Lance and Kylran are on the same team,” Allura said with a smug look on her profile as she watched Lance feign offence. Kylran, on the other hand, had scoffed and looked away. “Don’t deny it, boys, everyone knows it’s true. Despite being two sides of the same coin, you can’t stand each other.”

 

“Too cocky,” Lance mumbled.

 

“Too assertive,” Kylran said, louder and in unison with his commander.

 

“No one asked  _ why _ you hate the other’s guts,” Alfor sharply cut in, glaring at both Kylran and Lance’s portraits, “All we want is for neither of you to put that aside for this mission. Otherwise, neither of you are fit to fight.”

 

“Don’t worry, pops,” Lance chirped, resting his head on the back of Blaytz’s chair to make himself visible, “I was told once that I’m  _ very _ good at pretending.” He said that with a fixated gaze on Keith, who turned crimson and stubbornly looked away. From the distant beeping, he seemed to have found his control panel far more entertaining. Blaytz took notice of this, and gave Lance a look torn between several questions, and something akin to pride. “So what I’m sayin’ is, I’m no problem of definition, yeah? And neither is Kylran. He’s my soldier, even if I doubt his loyalty to me every other tick.”

 

“But -”

 

“Trust him,” Keith sharpy interjected. Lance saw his ship, previously hidden, shoot out past the red lion and to the nearing planet. “He knows his comrades like the back of his hand.”

 

Blaytz covered the comm on his helmet. “Well, he’s loyal, I’ll give him that,” He said with a broad grin over his shoulder.

 

“It’s what makes him Keith,” Lance said simply, watching as Alfor relented to Keith’s words in silent resignation. “He’ll even backtalk royalty if it’s unjust to him.”

 

“Respectable,” Blaytz said, holding up a finger to hush Lance as he uncovered his comm. “Okay, everyone shut up, we’re getting into the enemy territory. Princess, Coran, keep your ship behind us. Everyone who isn’t wearing your helmets like idiots - put the damn things on.” Lance watched Akmi and Vulpes slam their helmets on, Vulpes patting the top harshly with both hands, as most Altean soldiers seemed to have picked up. Lance wondered if that was his doing.    
  


“Alright,” Alfor said, giving a wary glance to Allura’s profile, Coran still ever present and just as worried as Alfor. Of course, they kept that very locked and under key. Lance could only tell by the lines forming on their faces from worry. “We need to extract and flee. You will be in charge of assisting us in doing so, and if you see any stranded innocents, evacuate them. Got it?”

 

A chorus of ‘got it, your majesty,” rumbled from the army of portraits. And one by one, they winked out of existence until it was just Blaytz and Lance in a quiet lion. “Does she talk to you?” Lance asked as Blue dove into the atmosphere.

 

“Kind of? It’s kind of like your bond with your guard. You don’t have to speak to know what they’re all thinking. ‘Cept this gorgeous behemoth here enforces the feeling that lets me know what’s on her mind,” Blaytz answered, “Why?”

 

“I was just wondering. Being here makes me feel like I’m not alone in my mind. Feels like something’s trying to get in," he described, his head falling over the back of his seat.  


 

Blaytz didn't respond.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The fighting had begun almost immediately. Lance found himself falling from Blue’s cockpit with several soldiers at his side, Elyria shouting in his ear about being unable to land safely. “Then land when we pave a path!” Lance shouted over the roar of wind all around him as he plummeted, jet pack bursting to life just before he hit the floor. Keith’s ship, however, was one of the few who found a spot to land, and was currently taking out several of the planet’s rogue inhabitants with him. “Keith!”

 

“What?” Exasperation hung thick in his voice, and Lance saw his helmet pop up from the top of his seat, top of the ship exposed.

 

“There’s a sniper squadron on the rooftops. Should I - ”

 

“No,” Allura cut in, her voice sharp and clear in his helmet, “We’ll have the ships unable to land take them out. We, however,” She said, a hand soon on Lance’s shoulder. Coran was a step behind her, looking in every direction with a gun he neither knows how to hold or use. Well, as far as Lance knew. “Can take out the runners.”

 

“Sound’s like fun,” Lance only said, spearhead bursting to life as Allura brandished her staff. “Keith, hurry the fuck up or we’re leaving you.”

 

“Okay, first,” a crack from Keith’s end, a sound Lance knew to be the irksome sound of a neck snapping, “I’m hurrying as fast as I can. Second, you can’t leave me. I doubt Coran nor Alfor would let you.” A blastor fired from the direction his ship, and then Keith was soon with the group, spotless save for a dark green liquid across the film of his helmet. He wiped it away with a hand, flicking it to the ground. “Allura, why the runners?”

 

“Well,” Allura began, with a glittering grin, “Apart from Vulpes, you were the highest in speed. So we have a chance of countering them if we work together.”

 

“Then don’t stall.” 

 

And with that quick yet stern order from Keith, the four had set off with weapons in hand. Lance had gotten the first kill, and entirely by accident, as he swung his arm in too sharp of an arc, catching a runner on the tip of his spear. Keith had gotten the second through, according to him in a recent private training session with Lance, ‘what happens when you leave a kid alone with his dead mother’s sword for most of his childhood’. Allura, however, had taken a less gruesome route, tripping runners before bashing their heads with her staff. 

 

“Need help?” Laxus called from the comm, and Lance saw him standing with a foot on one of the brutishly large soldiers.

 

“Nah - Love, get this one on my left - You’re better with others. Go help Quille and Akmi,” Lance ordered, Keith’s sword sailing past Lance’s face as per his request. “Fiero! Sarpedon! How you guys holding?”

 

“We’re holding up!” Fiero’s shouted response came from a distant end. “Sarpedon got us past most of the danger so we’re helping King Alfor out with his part of the mission! What about you!”

 

“Runners!”

 

“Sound’s like hell,” Laxus said, one of the larger soldiers hurdling over Coran’s head. “By the cosmos, Xenomora, what do you  _ drink _ ?” he then asked, a rhetorical question only met with a low chuckle.

 

“It is!” Lance chirped, kneeing a fallen runner in the face. Allura stumbled behind him, bumping into his back. The two only spared glances to the other before they shrugged their shoulders, seamlessly melting into a new battling stance. “So, Allura,” He said, spear spinning in his hand as he took out one of the runners circling them, “How’s mom and Coran’s lessons on diplomacy going?”

 

“Oh, dreadful,” Allura said as she exhaled a deep pant, hurdling a runner over her and to the floor in front of Lance. “I don’t know how you do it so well.”

 

“It’s my natural cha - ow! Keith! Don’t step on my foot!” Lance shrieked after the Galra that had raced past him, dead intent on getting a weasly runner that got away.

 

“Sorry!” He called over his shoulder, not sounding sorry at all.

 

“Just pretend ya don’t hate them, yeah? And if they offer you weird looking food, breathe in through your mouth. Give me a lift real quick,” He said, Allura then turning around and creating a foothold for Lance. He took a running start, shouting before he lept to her foothold, “Okay, Go!”

 

Lance only had a split tick to think. As he felt his feet leave the ground, his hand fumbled for the handle on his staff and pressed the button that shifted his staff from a spear to his blaster. Then he was airborne, taking in his visible targets. Two at a door that cornered Kylran, one Keith was struggling to defeat, and the three runners left to take out.  If he took out one for Kylran, he would be able to defeat the survivor. But for the others - “fuck it,” Lance hissed. And fired.

 

One of Kylran’s foes crumpled to the ground, the fiery and stupidly cocky soldier only gaping at Lance before he realized that he still had company. Keith’s fell to a blast on the side of his chest, the Galra grinning broadly at him from across the battlefield. And the other three joined them in oblivion.

 

“Never,” Lance said to no one in particular, exhaling deeply as he regained his balance, “ _ ever  _ say I’m a bad shot again.”

“Nah, we’ll pass,” Laxus said over the comm. He saw a flash of yellow rush past with Elyria and Xenomora in toe and knew that they had moved on. With a nod from Keith and Coran, Lance made the other soldiers move out as well. 

 

“I always knew you were a good shot,” Keith said as the squadron raced through halls, following Fiero and Sarpedon’s orders and then rearranging them to fit their own forte. “Your reactions were just way more amusing at the time.”

 

“Well I’ll be damned, you’re actually admitting something.”

 

“Shut up,” muttered the now crimson Keith, arms folded and sword then sheathed. “Or I may never admit something to you again.”

 

“Mhm,” Lance hummed, a pleased look on his face that made Keth scowl. He knew just as well as anything else that Keith was too stubborn to go back on his own promise. It might as well have been a blood oath, Lance had once joked. “Blaytz, how’s the extraction?” He asked, pressing a hand to the right side of his helmet.

 

“Well, you see - we’ve run into a problem. Your idiot of a father ran off and left me at this locked door. Fiero’s betrothed has an igniter for explosives, but we can’t seem to find any to use it on in here,” the paladin said. 

 

“Father - ” Allura began in an exasperated tone. The sound of screams came from one of the comms, interrupting her.

 

“I’m fine! Just get the door open!” Alfor shouted.

 

“I have explosives, actually,” Kylran said from a little ways up. He had gone quiet from shame of being able to take on two soldiers on his own some time ago. Then all movement halted, soldiers going out of their way to give Kylran a look.

 

“ . . . . Why?” Blaytz and Lance asked in unison, Lance giving his recruit a confused look. He shrugged his shoulders sluggishly.

 

“You never know when you need them. The weirder thing to have is just the igniter.”

 

“I left it on Altea,” Sarpedon simply explained. He grunted, and the sound of claws on metal sounded painfully in their ears. More than one soldier groaned and pressed a hand on the side of their helmet. “Sorry. The vents are blocked off, too. I can’t get it off.” 

 

“We can send Elyria in,” Keith suggested.

 

“Oh, great, send the short one to the vents as if all Alteans can’t change their heights,” Elyria muttered from Xenomora’s side. The brutish Galra sympathetically patted her shoulder - a small sign of solidarity.

 

“No, it’s because you were the best at escaping,” Allura clarified simply.

 

“You scored seventy-nine point nine eight percent higher than the rest of the guard when faced with an obstacle and told to find a quick escape route, meaning you’d be able to escape if you got through to the room via the vent without trouble,” Coran said in his bright voice. 

 

“ . . . Well, that might have affected Keith’s decision,” Elyria said with flushed cheeks.

 

“You don’t need to send her,” Sarpedon insisted, “just get here quickly so the king doesn’t do anything else senseless and utterly dangerous.”

 

A distant boom, and a faint scream from Alfor. “ . . . Too late,” Blaytz said with a sigh. “Coran?”

 

“I can’t, he told me to protect Allura - ”

 

“Then we’ll both go. Laxus, come with us, please?” Allura said, giving a pleading look to the electric soldier, who only laughed.

 

“Do you even have to  _ ask _ , princess?” Laxus said with his most dazzling smile, and his smile only widening when he heard Lance mutter ‘copier’ under his breath.

 

And with that, the squadron was three down. Not that Lance particularly cared - they would all be safe once they reached Alfor. It took them a dobash or two to get to the door, where Fiero and Sarpedon were fiddling with a panel. Blaytz, however, had been entertaining himself on the ground with a communicator. Their heads all whipped to the squadron, ragged and covered in blood belonging to themselves and the enemy. “You look like shit,” Fiero blurted.

 

“Yeah,” Vulpes said, her shoulders shrugging and lithe form dancing from one foot to the other. Her hand fell limp at her side in an unnatural, leading Lance to believe it may have been broken. Nothing a cryo-pod couldn’t fix, though. “That’s usually how this thing goes.”

 

“We’ve got the stuff,” said Kylran, removing his cuirass to reveal an abundance of nano-thermite titanium-boron, all securely stored so that it wouldn’t go off by any sudden impact. “But someone’s going to have to get me some more.”

 

“I’ll have Gyrgan get you some while he’s out,” Blaytz offered before excusing himself to make a deal with the yellow paladin via private comm.

 

“Okay,” Sarpedon said with a wary eye to the explosives. “Give me about a dobash, and hold off the soldiers coming down the hall above us right now.”

 

“What - ?”

 

“I can hear them too,” Keith confirmed, Akmi and Hiro nodding their heads in agreement. “They’re planning to drop in from above. Lance - ”

 

“On it. Vulpes, you were supposed to work with Hedwidge’s crew with Ash, right? Got anything that can trap some rogues?”

 

The lithe and fox-like Altean blinked at Lance with a deadpanned look, before she was tapping rhythmically on her cuisses. “Just because my brother’s Asher doesn’t mean I have anything that can  _ trap _ them. But,” she said, her cuisses unfolding to reveal a container with a glowing blue rope attached to two hooks. She removed the rope and slammed the container shut with two pats to confirm it to be locked. “I do have something I use to make tripwires with.”

 

“Stolen from Asher?” Quille asked with a bemused look in his twinking eyes.

 

“Stolen from Asher.”

 

“Then it’ll work. Everyone, weapons at the ready and back away,” Lance said before Vulpes got down to tying, with Lance’s help as to what exactly she was doing.

  
  
  
  


The rogues fell from the ceiling in a burst of sound, expecting to have the element of surprise on their side. Instead they found themselves looking at a smug squadron, an even smugger Lance at their front. “Nice to see you . . .  _ drop in _ ,” he said, before the rope activated and wrapped itself around the bunch, leaving them unable to even shift. Then Lance was left to fight off a groaning Keith intent on punching him at least once for such a terrible pun while Blaytz laughed to the point of tears and Xenomora began to snort. 

 

“Okay!” Sarpedon shouted over the roaring sound of shaming on Lance, “I got it. Everyone needs to stand way the hell back, or we’ll be seeing the willow  _ and  _ the cosmos before the day can even be over.”

 

And so, as per Sarpedon’s request, everyone stood way the hell back. Elyria used Xenomora as a shield, her only excuse being that the blast might send her flying. Xenomora only solemnly agreed to that excuse with a slow nod. And then, a few ticks later, the door was exploding in a mess of shrapnel and leaving the rogues in distress about the damage caused. They had been so distressed, in fact, that they failed to notice that Vulpes had removed the rope some time ago, then twirling it around her wrists.

 

“Lance, father’s going to need a cryo-pod later,” Allura’s voice called from across the base. The sound of battle had died out from the background.

 

“No I won’t,” said Alfor, sounding like he would  _ definitely _ need a cryo-pod later.

 

“He will,” Coran said sharply. He could almost imagine the pointed glare he would no doubt be giving his dear friend in that moment.

 

“Alright. Blaytz, should we have him wait in Red?”

 

“Definitely. Before she decides to come get him herself.” Blaytz said this with an entirely serious look as if it had happened before. “Alfor, we’ll be able to finish this on our own.”

 

“No, you won’t. I need to be there to make sure we can leave safely - ”

 

“You can do that from up above, your majesty,” Keith cut in, his voice just as stern as Coran, “We’ll be fine down here.”

 

And so ended Alfor’s protests with him leaving everyone behind for the safety of cryo-healing, and the extraction began. According to Blaytz, they needed the rogue leader to put him on trial. Sarpedon had offered to capture him, Vulpes and Hiro going with him. Then Blaytz informed the rest of the squadron that they would be borrowing their balmera crystals indefinitely and that they needed to work fast.

 

“Alteans - and Xeno - carry the crystals the rest of the squadron would be unable to,” Lance ordered, lifting up two fairly-sized crystals and holding them under his arms. He eyed the remaining galra soldiers with a wicked look. “And you guys will help us get the hell out of here.”

 

Soon enough the crystals were rounded up, and Keith led the protective bubble around the bunch. Fiero had found a hov-cart and claimed it as his own, stockpiling it with all the crystals and teleduv lenses he could find.

 

“We got her,” Sarpedon called, merging into the speed-walking retreat seamlessly. Vulpes followed close behind with the stern looking leader in her arms, her wrists and legs tied tightly together with a ball of cloth shoved in her mouth. Should the cloth be absent, she would no doubt be cursing at them with every word known to her people.

 

“I don’t even want to know how this kid learned to tie those knots,” Blaytz said as he fell into step with Lance.

 

“Neither do I. But knowing Fiero, those knots would be useful for . . .  _ other  _ uses,” Lance said in a deathly low voice so that Keith wouldn’t overhear and intercept his comment. His mentor had to hold back a barking laugh at that, hand slapped over his mouth. And when he finally got himself composed again, he gave Lance one of the brightest, proudest smiles he had ever seen.

 

“Lance, as much as your family and lover probably hate me for making you like this, I am  _ so proud _ of you,” He said in a weak voice that jumped in rambling octaves with hints of laughter. But Lance found no words to respond with, instead spending the rest of the walk back to the ships smiling at his feet.

  
  
  
  
  


“Lance, even though I love the paladins to bits, I never want to go on even a remotely dangerous mission with your father ever again,” Keith later said as he threw himself dramatically to the center of Lance’s bed, arms spread out. Nephele was soon to follow, her hand slapping harshly against the nape of his neck loud enough for Lance to cringe. She had been insistent that she follow Lance and Keith, adamant on experiencing the mission.

 

“Now you know how I feel every time we get sent on solo missions,” was all that Lance said as he examined his injuries long faded from some time spent in a cryo-pod. His skin was smooth as ever- never scarred and never torn. 

 

“It  _ is _ very distressing,” Nephele agreed from where she sat. Lance had found that when she took this long, she was watching his experiences rather than simply feeling them. She had once explained to him that when she feels his experiences, she only gets occasional images tied strongly to the emotion felt at that time. “You should stop running off before you start taking years off of Lance’s life, too.”

 

“I only take years off of Sheelo’s life. Right, Lance?” Keith asked, turning his head to face Lance as Nephele forced him to sit down on his bed, hands lingering on his bare shoulders.

 

“Up for debate.”

 

“Hmm, no, it really isn’t. You’re always distressed when he runs off headfirst into danger. Like earlier. But you seemed to have had  _ that _ situation under control,” Nephele said, her third eye blinking curiously.

 

“I always have everything under control,” Lance said with a confident grin that immediately gave him away.

 

“No you don’t,” said Nephele and Keith in unison.

 

“Just let me pretend I do, you little Galran dream-crushers.”

 

Keith told him that it was just the truth and that he loved him still, lack of situational control and all. 

 

Lance then had to call the rest of his guard then asleep to confirm that he didn’t have most situations under control. The major consensus was yes, Lance, you son of a weblum, you couldn’t keep an issue under control even if your life depended on it. Genevieve, on the other hand, was the sole yes, who pointed out that he could occasionally keep the group under control. Chrysthan had started a very heated conversation on whether or not that was true, when a groggy Hedwidge had interrupted on Vivi’s line and ordered them to sleep or ‘Nebulas be her witness’, she would ensure that no one in the guard would be able to leave their rooms come the following quintent.

 

And so, terrified by the prospect of being locked in his room for an entire day, Lance had shooed Keith and Nephele from his room in nothing but his undergarments and a bathrobe. Keith had called him rude. Nephele told him to shut up, and that there would be many opportunities to smash faces in the coming future, and without her present.

 

“Why are you still awake,” groaned an exhausted Allura, who had experienced a cryo-pod for the first time in deca-phoebs.

 

“My guard decided to assess my competence as commander,” explained Lance, already about to close his door. His hand froze on the control panel. “Wait, Allura, are you planning on sleeping soon?”

 

“Well, I  _ was _ , but . . .” Allura trailed off, glancing to the floor and shrugging her shoulders and vaguely gesturing as an explanation. “I doubt it’ll happen now that I’m up.”

 

“I’ve got something that can do the trick,” Lance said, a silent offer of solidarity between the two siblings. “Mama told me ‘bout it.” Of course, Allura knew that Lance had some sort of method of falling asleep for deca-phoebs for now. Lance had once been plagued by night terrors, all irrelevant, as childhood nightmares often went. Alfor had been away at that time, leaving the queen to pass on her husband’s alchemical knowledge to their children.

 

“It won’t take long, will it?” She asked, hesitantly taking a step into the hall, wandering halfway to Lance’s room.

 

“Nah, I always have some on hand just in case the guard needs some,” he said, stepping back into his room for Allura to enter, hesitant and looking in confusion at his room.

 

“You have . . . a lot of tokens,” she noted, gesturing to the many items neatly arranged on his previously barren shelves and table.

 

“Oh - yeah. The united army’s been going on tons of missions, so I started bringing stuff back. Most of it’s gifts from the inhabitants. Some of them were picked up by my soldiers that caught on to what i’ve been doing,” Lance said simply, pulling a jar from his desk. He saw Allura staring at the shelf, her eyes stopping more than once on a crystal ball resembling the stars. “Vivs and I got that one a little while ago. Apparently, Blaytz likes to tell civilizations about me before we visit to help them rebuild their community.” He said that with a fond smile hidden from his sister, as his hands worked delicately with the preserved flowers. “So one of them prepared me a gift in the only way they knew how.”

 

“And this one?” Allura asked, gesturing to a complicated charm made of beads, feathers, and miscellaneous precious gems dangling from the shelf.

 

“Chrysthan passed it on to me.”

 

“That’s a first.”

 

“I know, right? Raylond said the same thing!”

 

“Okay, what about this one?”

 

“Keith. Why else would I have a sword sheath up there?”

 

“Fair enough. How about this one?”

 

“Ooh, good one! You see . . .”

 

And so, Allura and Lance spent their time before bed going over the stories behind the relics harbored in Lance’s bedroom, the only room to be seen in such a state since the castle’s creation. Then, once morning had come around the corner, Alfor and Coran had entered the room to be greeted with Lance and Allura asleep, the former’s arm thrown over the latter’s drooling face, white hair sticking to anything and everything in its path. 

  
  
  


It was the first time they had found the two like this since they were children, always exhausting themselves trying to outshine the other desperately.

  
  


So, of course, Coran had taken a photo of it and sent it to the queen and Lance’s communicator. Lance, however, had failed to notice the photo at the time, and would only come to discover it ten thousand years in the future, when he had finally decided to bite the bullet and speak to Alfor’s memories about everything he had failed to establish with him in his time alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so! I only mentioned this to one of my readers so far and not even my Beta reader knows about this (well, probably), but I've compiled a playlist for every chapter in this fic! You even get the chapters I haven't even written, but always had songs picked out for! I was gonna put it on 8tracks but,, I don't own any of these songs,,
> 
> Anyway! I hope you enjoy this playlist:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLZSVYfsFm66CF_bxZAcbUhryrTUFuSSca
> 
> I'll see you next update!


	10. Hercules

Lance hears nothing over the sound of his beating heart - feels nothing other than the deep joy Blue sends his way as she shoots through the night reflecting his own. And as Blue opens a wormhole with a rumbling roar, Lance finds himself thinking of how this was something that was once far away from him - a distant dream just as far as any others he once held in his mind. But by the Nebulas, he finds it in his reach. In Blue. Which, in itself, was a distant dream Lance had from the moment he knew Blaytz. And he’s going to get Keith. He’s going to see Keith in a different state than his peculiar state in his cryo-pod. He’s going to talk to Keith and hear his voice again. 

 

And later, he’s going to ask him why Hedwidge lodged his knife in a control panel on his behalf. But over this voice looms a worry of repetition. Keith would no doubt be just like Lance when he awakes - disoriented and longing to rejoin their comrades that now lie in the ashes of Altea. This feeling of worry is soon diminished and replaced by a sense of reassurance by the lion who loves and mourns alongside her paladin.

 

“Gorgeous,” Lance says to the lion as she plunges herself to the watery depths of Apocrypha. The lion croons as a response, seldom slowing her steadfast journey to the research lab. “Do you think Red would accept Keith? I mean, his trust is super hard to get, right?”

 

Blue doesn’t respond, as he expects. But a feeling settles in his heart and spreads to the pit of his stomach, and she prods a memory of the final battle seen from a perspective beyond his own. Her message is clear, nevertheless. Keith had already proven himself to Red several times over by his actions during Altea’s demise. His accepting him was the least of any of the lions’ worries.

 

“Really? And I didn’t do much to get you other than be my handsome self. He really got the short end of the stick in that little deal, lovely.” Blue lets out rumble in return, but gives no answer as to what Lance might have done to earn her trust. He thinks that reasonable to a degree, and decides to sit in silence until she stops at the same door he had left in, still covered in colorful moss.

  
  
  
  
  


Apocrypha had gone back to it’s dark and desolate state after Lance left it’s watery depths to join Voltron. And when he entered, seeing the control room in the same disorganized state he had left it, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was waiting just for him. These suspicions were confirmed ever so slightly when he trails his hand along the wall, the lights bursting to life in a sudden and swift motion, the voice that announces the identity scan completing having faded in the years to unintelligible static.

 

_ Go _ , the lab seems to whisper and urge,  _ get Keith. And avenge us. _ And then, with that crooning sort of welcoming by the facility, Lance is flying down the hall with a grin across his face, launching himself off of every corner he turns as he finally breaches to the infirmary.

 

And he stops in the doorway, seeing how all status updates on Keith had vanished. Then he takes trembling steps forward, past the spot where Hedwidge once stood battered and bloodied and ready to do whatever it took to save Vivi, and to the two working cryo-pods she had been so haunted and tormented by. 

 

Then without a moment’s reflection on what exactly Lance should do in this situation, Keith is stumbling out of the Cryo-pod unlike the Altean’s prior ungraceful fall, and immediately into Lance’s arms with his sword clattering to the floor. He coughs, a shaking sound as claws pricked through a gap in his armor. He is still tense, however, and ready to attack. “You’re fine,” Lance reassures him, a coarse hand resting on the smooth hair of his lover-in-arms.

 

“Where’s - ” Keith breaks off, his voice hoarse and broken. He looks up at Lance, yellow eyes haunted by his own memories still as painful as ever. His pupils dilating and undilating several times, before finally settling on a look of perplexity. “Where’s Hedwidge?”  

 

“Gone, love. With the rest of Altea.” Lance is frank, having decided long ago that he would tell him nothing but the truth no matter the circumstances, but his voice shows just how much it hurts telling Keith this. His lips tighten to a thin line before he carefully continues, “With the rest of the guard.” 

 

Keith’s eyes shift through several emotions upon hearing this. But he doesn’t cry, doesn’t scream. Like a true, unbroken soldier. If things had been different, Lance would chastise Keith for holding everything under lock and key. “How long were we out? How long were you awake?” He asks, having already calculated that everything was off. This time, unfortunately, Lance knows exactly why he decides to hold back his feelings. He holds off until the battle ends and they are safe to break. 

 

“Ten thousand years. And one month.”

 

Then Keith finally brings himself to the blue armor Lance adorns. He asks no questions, merely snapping his head up with an unspoken question he dares not to utter. His eyes are wide, met with sorrowful blue eyes, and his hands shake just a little more. “Yeah,” Lance says quietly, tracing his thumb over a scar that formed on Keith’s forehead, tiny and covered by hair. “They are. But since there’s no rest for the wicked, we haven’t had the time to figure everything out. Even now I had to leave the team to protect a Balmera settlement on their own.”

 

At this, he changes entirely. Turns from the fragile and breaking man Lance doesn’t know how to handle, back into a soldier aware of his duties. “What can I do.” Not a question. An order, filled with eagerness to return to a battle that waged for so long without him to change the tides.

 

“You,” Lance says, bringing Keith to his feet, their hands still lingering, seldom breaking. Just as they did long ago. “can pilot the Red lion.”

 

“I don’t think - ”

 

“There’s no time to think,” He says, hand pressing Keith’s against his cheek. They stare at each other unblinkingly. “You just do. Follow your instinct. Like everything else you do.”

 

“My instinct is telling me to punch you in the gut for immediately throwing me into battle.”

 

“That’s reasonable, But punch me after we save the Balmera, alright? Our paladins as of right now aren’t like the army, and Allura says that we might die if we can’t form Voltron. Well, not to  _ them _ specifically, but you catch my drift. Coran strongly agrees with this sentiment. And if the gorgeous man agrees with her, then it’s serious business,” Lance says solemnly.

 

“You’re asking me to trust people I don’t know.”

 

“ . . . Yes?” he says unsteadily, already pulling Keith out the door.  “I can tell you what I know while we get you to the lion if that helps.”

 

“It might,” is the only response he gets, the hand in his just as uneasy as the comrade sticking close to him. So Lance reassures him in the only way he knows how at the time, and squeezes comfortingly. Keith squeezes back. It’s a silent exchange, one of solidarity and a bond that can’t be broken, severed, or worn from the years. 

 

Not after all that’s happened between them.

  
  
  
  
  


In the span of five dobashes, Keith learns everything he needs to know about the paladins, other than them being human. One, that Hunk is the universe’s most kind soul that might even challenge Coran and Genevieve. Two, that Pidge hacked her way into a space program, and will add weird shit into your lion’s programming if you let her. And three - “Shiro reminds me of Sheelo. Sadder eyes, though.” This was a revelation Lance had made a quintent ago, when they were all bickering over something stupid he can’t remember now.

 

“Sadder eyes?” Keith asks, brows furrowing as he halts in front of the hangar to the Red Lion.

 

“Yeah. Even worse than my pops. The thing is, Shiro’s seen more and fought more than I’ve ever thought possible. I can tell you the rest later.” Lance scratches at his right forearm. “But I think you’ll like him. Might argue with him, sure, but no one’s really bonded with you until you’ve expressed just how frustrating they are.” It’s a terrible attempt at a joke, Lance knows, but Keith decides to throw him a bone and chuckles.

 

“You really did frustrate me,” He says in a fond sort of voice teeming with underlying sorrow. He doesn’t have to see Keith’s face or ask to know he’s thinking about Nephele, the driving force that got them to see past their own stubbornness and apologize.

 

“But I don’t anymore.” He says this with a cocky grin, the tension from before still clearly there, but Lance would be damned if he didn’t stick by his own policies of joking in the face of death.

 

“Eeeeh.” Keith gestures vaguely, opening the door to Red’s hangar.

 

“Keith, what does that mean. Keith!” Lance shouts desperately as the door slams shut. He hears laughter behind the door, wicked and happy all the same.

 

And in that moment, Lance decides that if he died today, he wouldn’t mind if the last thing he ever heard was that laugh. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Lance! You got him?” Shiro asks from the comm, before Keith’s portrait flickers to life. Lance simply gestures to where he assumes his portrait to be in the Black lion.

 

“This feels . . . so wrong. On so many levels,” is all Keith says, before the Red lion is flying up to speed with Lance, the Balmera in view.

 

“You’ll get used to it. What’s the course of action, Shiro?” Lance asks, tapping his fingers on the handles of his lion. The Red Lion appears to the left of Lance, feeling just as agitated as it’s paladin, though none of Lance’s fellow comrades can tell.

“We have one last mining rig left to take down, and the princess said that there were Galra found beneath the surface, and they need to be shut down before they can escape. Can you two take them out?” He asks Pidge’s portrait appearing. She says nothing, only starts at Keith’s appearance in shock before recomposing herself to apathy. “She also wants you to know that the main priority is to preserve the Balmera as long as possible.”

 

“Yeah, we’re on it. I know Coran or Allura said this already, but you guys be careful around the Balmera, alright? We can’t have it dying on us.” As Lance speaks, he sees Keith’s head wildly whips from left to right, before settling blankly ahead of him. Not even sparing Lance a glance to give him some sort of hint as to what he was planning.

 

Thankfully, a tick before Keith takes off, Blue sends him a flash of a panging impatience and bubbling anger directed at nothing and everything all the same. He doesn’t even hear the paladins’ response, only their voices ringing in a dull chorus. And with an exasperated sigh, Lance thrusts his lion forward, racing on Keith’s tail.

 

“I can’t believe they enslaved a  _ Balmera _ ,” Keith growls in a separate comm, his brows furrowed and frown deep. Gone is his apathetic guise only used when the gears of his mind turn, now replaced by the fury bubbling over. Lance knows, however, that this isn’t entirely the source of his impatience - his anger. “What did they ever do to deserve that?”

 

“Nothing, love,” is Lance’s simple answer, “this is the result of what corruption does to even the kindest of hearts.” 

 

“Then promise me you’ll never let yourself rot like this.”

 

“Promise. Besides, I’ve got too many lives to avenge to handle corruption. Cosmos, I sound like every orphan protagonist ever,” Lance mumbles the last part, glaring at nothing out of the pity that is his new protagonist complex. He supposes that this will, however, give him the attention and fan base he longed for before Keith came into his life.

 

“I’ll mourn your previous persona as the obnoxious flirt for the remainder of the day if you’d like,” says Keith, tone and face entirely serious.

 

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  
  
  
  
  


“There’s only a few sentries guarding the hangar,” Keith says from two steps ahead of Lance, his bayard forming a sword in a flash of red as he surveys the inside of the hangar. “If we move fast enough - ”

 

“Keith. Attacking them would be bad for the Balmera.”

 

“Alright,” he says, sword dangling from a loose hand as he folds his arms and quirks a brow, “what’s your plan?”

 

“We shut the bay doors and lock those little bastards in. No ships get in or leave,” Lance says, a smug grin spreading across his face. His arms spread wide. “And we get more time to evacuate.”

 

“That . . . Actually is a better plan. Let’s get a move on, then,” Keith says, already headed to the control room. Which, in retrospect, only had one single issue.

 

Neither of them knew where the control room was.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Lance, Keith,” Shiro calls, Keith’s head whipping up from the control panel. In the hangar below, chaos had ensued now that they were left without means of exit. They had been attentive when Allura’s voice rang crystal clear in their ears, but continued their own personal tasks until Shiro had broken their attention. “We need you guys at the core. I don’t think we can finish this alone.”

 

“We’ll be just a tick,” Keith says cooly, typing in commands to tunnel information to the castle. “Hold on until we’re there.”

 

“A ‘thank you, Lance and Keith’, would also be appreciated,” Lance complains, shrugging his blaster back into a comfortable rest, turning his head to catch a glimpse of an amused look on Keith’s face. 

 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” he says, screen flickering to nothing as he marches to the door where Lance waits, “You can’t have thanks and a parade in your honor at the same time.”

 

“That sounds like a challenge.”

 

“It’s not.”

 

“ . . . I’m gonna make it a challenge.”

 

“Please, don’t.”

 

“Stop bickering and hurry up,” snaps Pidge, “Or we’re never leaving this damn Balmera.”

 

And a split tick later - “Pidge! Don’t fire! Those are Balmerans!” Allura’s voice is suddenly calling, Lance skidding to a halt at an entirely different sight to parallel Pidge’s fortune. In front of them are several sentries, blasters pointed directly at Lance and Keith. With a yelp, the two divebomb behind two separate sections of cover as the firing begins. Then the two commence the stupidest attempt of silent conversation, composed of dramatic gestures and various grunts of different volumes, until Keith finally gets the memo and ascends the ladder on his right, Lance striding to the clearing.

 

“Yo! Galra! Bet you can’t get this fine Altean piece of ass!” He shouts, giving a momentary dance (included with a horrendous slap to his butt that echoes painfully across the empty space) before he’s forced to the ground, shield bursting to life as blasters begin firing, Keith losing a war cry from above before descending on them like a short, terrifying, yet furry menace.

 

“Lance, I  want you to know that was by far the worst distraction I’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing you execute, and I would disown you immediately if we weren’t related by blood,” Allura’s exasperated voice says in his ear as Keith finishes off the last soldier.

 

“But it worked. Right, Keith?”

 

“It worked,” he says reasonably. “Wasn’t the best distraction, but by the Cosmos, it worked.”

 

“And that’s all that matters,” Lance says confidently, hands on his hips for only a split tick, before he’s being forcefully dragged to the Balmera’s core.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


You know, Lance fears hearing something rather disconcerting when he enters a room filled with the silent tension of a calm before the storm. Most of that fear stemmed from off-hand comments from the downer Chrysthan. 

 

And now Lance would have to add Shiro to the list of reasons why Lance’s terrified shitless of random comments of impending doom.

 

“If this was an ambush, they should be here waiting for us,” Shiro was saying as they entered through the door, Hunk directly in front of them with Shay in his arms, her wild eyes just as alert as the paladins frozen in front of their doors. However, all of the attentive paladins didn’t work fast enough to realize the trap, instead standing shell-shocked as the doors all around them slammed shut.

 

“Not an ambush,” Hunk says, brows furrowing, “more like a trap.”

 

“Well that’s fan-fucking-tastic,” Lance complains, shooting a sharp glare to the door over his shoulder as if it would open by sheer willpower alone.

 

“Whatever this might be,” Keith says with but a glance to his partner’s frustrated antics, “we have to keep our guard up.”

 

“The Galra gained the intel that you would return to the Balmera,” Shay helpfully pipes up.

 

“How? Do they have bugs on us or something?” Pidge asks.

 

“I know not. But this trap was specifically created for you, with me as the bait,” she says, a terror-struck look on her face.

 

“Who could know we were coming back to save Shay?” Shiro asks, to no one in particular.

 

“Rolo!” says Hunk, a haunted look crossing his face. “Bastards must’ve told Zarkon.”

 

“Who?” Keith asks in a hushed whisper, leaning to Lance. “And Zarkon’s still alive?”

 

“Rebels that tried to steal a lion for some GAC. Thought I was going to show them what we were all about, then I was tied to a tree and they were trying to steal Blue,” he explains simply. He keeps out the part where he was stuck tied to said tree for three vargas before anyone noticed. “And yeah, that son of a bitch is still alive. Old as the stars, but alive.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“We have to figure out how to get out of here,” Shiro says from where he stands, already placing his hand on separate areas of the door.

 

“Yeah, Lemme just say please and  _ maybe _ the doors will open!” says a Pidge with sarcasm dripping from every word.

 

“Allura, any ideas?” Lance calls to nothing, his eyes scanning the ceiling for an escape route.

 

“Don’t ask me!” Her rushed voice shouts on the other end. He hears her grunt and a burst of energy. “We’re surrounded by Galra fleets and taking heavy damage! I trust you all will be able to get out!”

 

“Princess, the particle barrier won’t last much longer!” Coran’s voice calls from far away.

 

“Paladins -  Hurry!”

 

“Well,” Lance announces as his sister continues to grunt and shout incoherently to Coran, slumping to the floor, “We’re going to die here. It was fun knowing you, and Keith, if you survive this because of course you would, please avenge me and throw a parade in my honor.”

 

“It’s not going to come to that you big crybaby,” Keith mutters from where he stands, inspecting everything deemed out of place. “We’re going to do everything in our power, Princess.”

 

“So just hang on, your majesty!” Shiro calls. 

 

“My people may be able to help,” Shay tentatively says once Allura’s connection winks out, taking a hesitant step forward. Lance then bolts up from the floor, snapping his fingers at the sudden epiphany that is the capabilities of this living planet and it’s inhabitants, giving a broad grin to the Balmeran. “If I can send a message through the Balmera, that is.”

 

“Wait, so you’re telling me you have a telepathic link through the Balmera, with the rest of your people?” Pidge asks, her eyes alight.

 

“Yeah, it’s super cool,” gushes Lance, giving Shay the privacy to communicate with her people. “I only saw it once when I served as a guard. Wasn’t it awesome, Keith?”

 

“I . . . guess? It’s not all that different from -  ” Keith cuts himself off before he can finish, eyes going wide before he casts them to the floor and finds a rock more entertaining, feigning a cough. But Lance, the constant savior of awkward conversation, swoops in and slings an arm around the Galra’s shoulder, eyes still shining.

 

“From our bonds with the lions, right! But with actual living beings - not that you’re not alive,” Lance chirps, the last part to a lion currently cut off from the rest of the team. “Which means it's extra wicked,” he finishes with a wink to Pidge.

 

“It really is!”

 

“Shay,” Shiro sharply cuts in, the cue for Lance and Pidge to shut up, “Are you sure they’re getting the message?”

 

And that, of course, is when Shay’s brother Rax bursts in.

 

“Okay, seriously, I’m absolutely convinced that his word is law at this point,” Pidge comments off-handedly. 

 

“We should have him suspiciously ask if the Galra empire can really turn on itself. Bam, problem solved and we can take a vacation,” Keith suggests. Lance hums thoughtfully, making a comment on how that was surely an idea to consider.

 

“Allura, we’re on our way!” Lance calls out in unison with Shiro, the former giving a joking glare only funny to Keith alone, who even manages to spare the blue paladin the most minuscule laugh he’d ever heard.

 

“Pokiaľ Noci,” says Keith with a solemn nod to his new comrades.

 

“He’s saying don’t die,” Lance helpfully adds, spinning backward as he marches alongside the Balmera. “Well, not really, but it still stands.”

 

“You mean . . . Good luck?” Pidge slowly asks, her brows furrowing.

 

“No,” Lance and Keith say in unison, glaring at one another momentarily. “It most certainly does not mean good luck. The Galra society Keith knew was weird as shit,” Lance clarifies, Pidge thoughtfully nodding her head while Keith argues that it is, in fact, a totally normal thing for people to say before battle.

  
  


And neither of them bring up Keith’s hesitance to tread on the subject of Nephele.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Allura, you’re not going down to the Balmera,” Lance says about a varga later, glaring at a wall as to not offend the Balmerans.

 

“Lance, I have to. It’s the only way we can safely evacuate the planet.”

 

“No, it isn’t. There are other ways . . . there’s gotta be.” Now he’s pacing, his fellow paladins following him with a wary eye. Keith is the only one to show frontal concern, seeming to hold back from either comforting him or slapping sense into him.

 

“This is hardly any different from the extraction mission on Helieas. If you allowed me to accompany you there,  _ fight _ with you there, this should be no different.” Unlike her younger brother, Allura speaks and carries herself with grace and dignity with the knowledge that the Balmerans can hear every word they say, but Lance knows from the way her voice shifts in the slightest of ways alone that she, too, is pacing back and forth.

 

“It’s Nebulas different,” he mutters, a hand scratching his scars absently. Hunk continues to speak in a hushed voice with Shay and the other Balmerans, Pidge rubbing her temples while leaning against a wall. Keith seems to be explaining something to Shiro, both wearing tired and worried expressions.

 

“No, it really isn’t. I wanted to go so that I’d be prepared for something like thi - ”

 

“I didn’t have to be afraid to lose the  _ only _ person left in my family on Helieas!” Lance shouts, cutting off Allura with an edge to his voice, tears pricking at his eyes. The room suddenly grows silent, Keith cursing to himself and hitting his forehead before muttering unintelligible words to himself as Lance rubs away his tears with the heels of his palms. Pidge had tensed up from the moment Lance lashed out, her eyes showing a barrage of emotions too chaotic to keep up with. Even Hunk seems taken aback, a pitiful look in his kind, kind eyes. “I already lost my guard,” He says in a ghost of a voice only heard by Allura and the paladins. “I can’t lose you too. That’s the difference.”

 

“I know.” Allura says this in a ghost of a voice, the two words coming out strong and fragile all the same. “But this is war, Lance. We can’t stop moving, or else that means failure.”

 

“We can never look back,” Lance clarifies, only releasing the hands pressed to his eyes when he feels a hesitant, familiar touch on his shoulder. The same advice he had just recently given Keith. Don’t stop to think, mourn when the dust settles. “I know that. It’s just - ”

 

_ What happens if everything that made you  _ you _ is in the past? _

 

“Let her go,” Keith murmurs. Too quiet for the microphone or the other paladins to pick up audibly, but just loud enough for Lance. “We’ve come this far. Stopping now would mean giving up on everything we all worked for. Asher would never let you hear the end of it on the other side.”

 

Lance takes a deep breath. Steeling himself - composing himself. Then he looks strongly at the other Balmerans without a glance to Shiro. “Okay. We’ll distract the robeast like Shiro said. You evacuate the Balmera.  _ Do not  _ heal the Balmera.”

 

“But-” Allura begins to protest, a fire in her words.

 

“Don’t. If all goes well, we’ll be able to save it together. But I can’t revitalize it from the Blue lion,” Lance orders. He turns to his fellow paladins briefly, Shiro looking on with a perplexed look as if searching for a way for the Balmera to be revitalized immediately. “And we only planned on you going to help a minorly injured Balmera. Not a near-death Balmera.”

 

Allura makes no promises.

  
  


In the end, she heals the Balmera. 

 

It leaves her weak and close to the edge, but according to her, she ‘doesn’t regret a damn thing’. 

 

And Keith punches him in the gut the moment they’re safe in the castle.

 

Lance supposes that this would still have been the outcome for her even if things had been different, and decides to just be happy they’re all alive.

 

“Keith,” Allura greets, her bowl of Balmeran stew having been given to Lance, who dared Pidge to eat it for a rock from his room, and 1,000 GAC. She had only taken the dare because ‘the Holts aren’t little bitches, Lance’. The Galra’s head whips around from where he stood, attentive and ready for orders.

 

Instead, Allura takes one of his hands in his. Lance sees a fierce look in his sister’s eyes, burning with an overwhelming fondness. Then, she does something rare and unexpected.

 

She pulls him in for a hug. He knows from the startled look alone from Keith that he seldom expects it or the way she squeezes him with so many unspoken words. Then he awkwardly hugs her back, confused eyes landing on her mass of hair. “Thank you,” She whispers quiet enough to be mistaken for one of her mice, words unheard by a Lance distracted by Pidge slamming her fist on a table whilst slurping down the stew.

 

“But - but I didn’t do anything,” Keith stutters, Allura abruptly pushing him away at this and giving him that fierce look of hers, hands still holding his upper arms and tears shining in her eyes. 

 

“You made it so he could come home to me as he was before the war. That is something I can never repay you for.”

 

“Repay me by ensuring he’ll always have a home to come back to,” he says, wiping away Allura’s tears with the back of a gloved hand. He gives her a small smile, glancing to a screaming Lance who seems to be avoiding being projectile-vomited on by Pidge. “Then you’ll never have to owe me a debt again.”

 

“And if you ever find yourself in debt to me,” Allura says, gripping his upper arm to steady her weak legs eyes unsteady for only a tick, “repay me by making it so that this home of his can seldom haunt him with the past.”

  
  


“Deal.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You moved rooms?” Keith asks in shock, watching as Lance throws himself dramatically to his bed, face first.

 

“Mhyeah - ‘ther vroom reminded me o’ you,” explains the face planted prince, a hand lazily lifting to point in his general direction.

 

He laughs, folded arms falling to his sides as he takes steps forward, stopped by Lance’s foot suddenly shooting up and pressing against his chest plate. Blue eyes look at him sideways, his lips pursed. “What?” 

 

“I have a question.”

 

“I have an answer.”

 

“Hang on,” says Lance, bolting to his feet in a sudden motion. He nonchalantly walks to his closet, throwing it open and rustling around until he finds his overcoat, a dramatically intricate thing gifted to him by the king of Viryala’s belt, made of whites and blues, lined with rich fur and gold. “Sorry, It’s getting cold. So,” Lance throws himself back onto his bed, an elegant act of a fluttering overcoat that is entirely ruined by the fact that he wears his pajama pants and lion slippers underneath. “Hedwidge left logs on Apocrypha.”

 

“Oh - ”

 

“I’m not finished, shut your quiznak - so she left logs. And I took them with me. First, I now forgive Vivi for that time she gave me that damned melon because her girlfriend was a lying little son of a bitch that cared deeply for my well-being. Second, she left a final vlog in the case that she didn’t return, with two different messages depending on who woke up first.” Lance says, a hand in his pocket.

 

“Smart,” Keith comments, seating himself in front of Lance.

 

“Right. But in this log, she told me to ask you why she stuck this,” Lance pulls Keith’s double sided blade from his pocket, holding it loosely, “in the control panel of her own work, off of the possibility that I would come across it.”

 

And with that, the galra turns a deep shade of violet. He avoids eye contact and fiddles with his claws. “Well -  you see - it was kinda stupid, really.”

 

“Keith, tell me or I’ll haunt you from beyond when I die.”

 

“It’s a ceremonial blade,” he says quickly, still fidgeting and embarrassed. “Hedwidge told me that you were the only person in the original guard without a ceremonial weapon. So I made plans to give you that on the anniversary of the united army’s formation, since you’d already made your mark on the blade when I had my back turned. Like I said, stupid - ”

 

“You were going to do that for me?” Lance asks, soft and delicate. It makes Keith freeze entirely, and meet the pink face of his lover. He meekly nods, scratching behind his ear.

 

“Youdon’thavetokeepitifyoudon’twantto -” Keith says in rapid succession, laughing nervously.

 

“I’m keeping this damn thing until I die, fuck you,” interjects Lance, a smothering, loving look in his fierce blue eyes. “It’s . . . really personal to you. If you wanted to give it to me, I don’t think you would want to go back on that so easily.” 

 

The unspoken story behind Keith’s dagger; it was the only thing left of his mother when she went missing on her mission, found in her abandoned ship. Zarkon still had a heart at that point and had shown up in person with the other paladins to give his condolences and present the blade. It was Keith’s only protection until Sheelo and Nephele had shown up in his life. And when Lance heard that story from the man himself, he had taken the blade and burned his initials into the lowest part of the top blade with his staff, only visible if you looked at the blade up close, or knew Lance enough to hear of his deed. Keith, initially, had been iffy about the initial thing, but accepted it with open arms after Lance had smiled at him warmly and told him, ‘so you’ll always know I’ll be here for you’. 

 

“It always bothered me that they never gave you a ceremonial weapon,” Keith mumbles, still bright red with embarrassment. “Even Kylran got one. The  _ trainee _ . For punching someone in the face.”

 

“That boosted his ego for a month.” Lance laughs - a sweet sound that holds no sort of resentment for the situation that irked Keith so direly, nor the trainee that he once claimed hatred of. “But they always thought I already had a ceremonial weapon.”

 

“Really? - Oh, cosmos, your  _ staff _ ?” he asks, leaning forward with wide eyes.

 

“Yup! Because it has such a careful design and the insignia of Voltron, I’m guessing they all assumed that I was gifted it when I formed the guard. Little do they know, it was just a gift for my damn birthday,” Lance says, sighing dejectedly and shaking his head. “This is why you don’t denounce your status of being a prince, Keith. Other planets think a present from your sister is a super prestigious weapon that can harness a star or something.”

 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” Keith says.

 

“Most people don’t,” Lance says, shrugging his shoulders as if saying ‘ _ what can you do _ ’. Then his nonchalant expression shifts to one of pure happiness as he smiles softly at the blade and to Keith, “I wanted a ceremonial weapon for ages and never got one. Over time, it became normal. But nebulas, love, this is way better than any fancy thing some monarch I just met could ever present me with.”

 

“You . . . Like it a lot more than I expected,” Keith says with hesitation, though his happy eyes and fanged smile show otherwise. “I’m glad.”

 

“Of course I do!” Lance says dramatically, raising his arms up with the blade in hand, his sleeves falling down to his shoulders, “I love this luxite blade and I love you!”

 

“Alright, love, that’s a little bit . . .” Keith trails off, his expression growing cloudy and antagonized, eyes trained on Lance’s right forearm.

 

“What?” he asks innocently, dropping his arms and inching closer.

 

“It scarred,” he says quietly, hand sliding up Lance’s sleeve and resting against the glowing scars that adorn his arm.

 

“Yeah. It looks badass,” chirps Lance, placing a thumb over the small scar on his forehead, hidden behind dark hair. “so don’t feel bad. If you hadn’t dug your nails into my arm I would have died. Besides, You got a little baby one right here.”

 

“I have another one on my back,” Keith blurts, slapping a hand to his mouth and cursing once he realizes that he had spoken. Lance’s face falls at this, as he puts together the possibilities as to  _ how _ . But, knowing Keith, and by the cosmos, Lance  _ knows _ Keith, there is only one.

 

“Love, did you - ?”

 

“No,” Keith snaps, too fast and hostile to be the truth. Then he’s apologizing, looking to his hands. He doesn’t repeat himself in a calmer tone, only stares at his hands. So Lance tilts his forlorn face up by his chin with a gentle hand, the other resting in a hand that hesitated for a tick before entangling their fingers. And then he speaks quietly, in a voice saved for the times when Keith is near locking up entirely - an experience neither of the two particularly enjoy.

 

“Can I see it?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Keith’s scar reminds Lance of when he saw a star in the Dalterion Belt go supernova. He was young and bright, fascinated with the lions for reasons he never knew until it came to light that he was to pilot one ten thousand years past. Allura had cried when it went supernova, despite Trigel’s calm and detailed explanation of what was happening. Alfor had to hold her for the rest of the duration of the day, but Lance stood strong with a stubborn curiosity, his face pressed to the observation ship’s window.

 

And as he sat, hand skimming over the rugged and uneven skin where fur used to be with a gentle hand, he thinks that the two of them were a supernova, as cheesy as it sounds. Burning bright before the moment of death, before they can be reborn again as a new star.

 

“I don’t regret it,” Keith says quietly, his head turned slightly to Lance, who had taken to pressing his forehead against the explosive scar. There is no doubt in his voice, steady and calm and having no need to lash out to prove that his lie was the truth. But beneath it lies a sadness only Lance can hear, of a soldier who wants to regret it for his love’s sake.  “And I would do it again if I had to.”

 

Lance closes his eyes, trying his damnedest not to think about how he would do the _exact_ same thing for Keith. And he would do it as many times it took.

 

“I know.”

 

And Lance thinks that the two of them, burnt out and broken, are a dead star waiting to be born again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this shaped up to be posted! Hopefully this meets your expectations to some degree! Next chapter is already written but like this one needs some serious work, so please be patient!


	11. Ursa Major

**Ten thousand years ago**

  
  
  
  


Lance and Keith had only heard about what happened to Daibazaal off-hand, through soldiers speaking to weeping family members, and Sarpedon, who was noticeably void of any communication. Instead of contacting family, he and Fiero had comforted those who were terrified of where they would end up now and acted as the driving force for the rest of the guard to do the same after seeing that they didn’t act in anger at seeing an Altean comfort them. Even Keith comforted Cinth (albeit awkwardly), his lieutenant who had always remained with the Galra while his commander merged with the Alteans seamlessly. He had given Lance a sort of look that told him he’d catch up later.

 

Which left Lance having found himself wandering aimlessly around the Castle of Lions, searching for Blaytz after Alfor had called him and explained that he had stormed off after it was confirmed Zarkon had died and needed to be corralled back to the dining hall for further action.

 

Lance first passed by Asher and Vulpes, who were crouching down and comforting a Galra trainee on the floor unable to contact his family. Upon seeing Lance pass, Asher had given him a look torn between several things to say to him. Finally, he decided to turn his head back to the trainee and giving him the helpful advice of, “Don’t try to cheer up Hedwidge”, which, to Lance, was just a given. Losing your inspiration in life was something no one should have to go through.

 

So when Lance saw Hedwidge crying into Vivi’s comforting embrace, he knew it to be obvious to leave as fast as possible. And yet, he slowed down just a smidge to catch even a whiff of what the sobbing researcher has to say.

 

“That could have been me,” whispered a sobbing Hedwidge, barely audible to Lance as he passed by. “It could have been me.”

 

“No, Widge,” responded Vivi, her smoldering green eyes staring forward to nothing, a fierce look on her face, “you would have known when to stop.”

 

“You don’t understand, Viv. You don’t understand at all.” Lance barely heard this, choked out by the researcher who shook and wept without any acknowledgment to those who passed and tried to help - only to be batted away by Vivi’s hand.

 

“I may not understand, but I do know that there’s a difference between a passion and an obsession,” snapped Vivi, stern and stubbornly reassuring. Then Hedwidge said something bizarrely puzzling to Lance, even more appalling than the two speaking of Honerva’s obsession with quintessence that led to her demise.

 

“But who is which?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Lance found Blaytz alone in the lounge, his head in his hands and helmet long thrown to the floor far beyond him. An act of frustration, he knew entirely. Silently, he made his way to where he is seated, and hesitantly lowered himself down next to him.

 

“I should have figured it out,” the blue paladin said quietly.

 

“Zarkon would have gone through with his plans either way,” Lance said, his heart straining for his dear friend. He gently set an arm on Blaytz’s shoulder, hesitant as if he would break him.

 

“Not if we had all stopped to think. Alfor was so  _ happy _ that Zarkon had come back to us.  _ I _ was happy. And in the end, here we are,” said a choked-up Blaytz, his head lifting to meet Lance with tear-filled eyes. “Alive while they are dead.”

 

“They could have done something worse if they had lived,” Lance reasoned, “I know I sound like Keith, but think about it. Zarkon did everything Honerva asked him to. If she asked him to kill one of us, we would be none the wiser.”

  
  


“I wanted to trust him.”

 

“You shouldn’t have.”

 

“Lance, can I ask you a question?” Blaytz asked, seeming more fragile than Lance had ever seen, like a frightened animal fighting to flee.

 

“Always.” The commander said this immediately, without hesitation or doubt that he would be unable to answer the question his mentor would propose.

 

“How do you move on?”

 

Lance’s eyes danced around at this question. He scratched the nape of his neck and rubbed circles into his palms. Then, slowly but surely, he answered Blaytz with the truth. The truth he learned from the few times he fell in love. “You don’t. Someday you just forget what it was like to be without them.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“My fellow Galra,” Zarkon’s orders had begun, his eyes an unnatural, glowing purple. At the sound of his raspy and unnatural voice sounding not at all like the Zarkon everyone knew, all present in the town square froze in place. Even Lance had frozen with Keith close to his side, eyes wide as a deer in the headlights as they stared transfixed at the projection. Terror was in his lover’s eyes, and he saw his hand shift immediately to his blade. “King Alfor of Altea has destroyed our planet. He must pay dearly for his crimes. Rise up, and join your emperor! Victory will be ours!”

 

And then Zarkon was gone, Lance’s head whipping to Keith, who was in the process of drawing his blade at the sight of the Alteans turned to him with fear. He was frightened and shaking, acting only out of defense. But, upon seeing Lance’s terrified look, hesitated. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, shoving his blade back to its sheath with a swift motion.

 

“I will not draw my blade against you, Altea!” Keith shouted, his voice reaching the far corners of the square. Some Alteans had begun to cry, the Galra inhabiting the planet shaking with fear. “But for the time being, do not trust any of my men! I know not of where their loyalties lie!”

 

“Now don’t just stand there, run! This is an order from your prince!” called Lance, the first time he had ordered his people under the title royalty in years. Almost as if the mere use of his taboo title alone was an awakening in itself, the people fled in all directions. Lance then began his march to the castle, staff unfolded with the flick of his wrist, his earring sparking to life in a purple glow. “To all of my guard - get to your ships as swiftly as possible. If you still struggled with the flight practice like idiots, remain on Altea and fight the Galra who turned against us. But please, for the love of the cosmos, do not engage Keith. He’s on our side.”

 

“I need to make sure Nephele’s safe,” Keith said quickly, a hand gripping Lance’s shoulder tightly. “Before we go.” 

 

He hesitated, blue eyes darting around every space. He knew that in Keith’s mind, the war had already shifted against them so long as they remained on Altea. 

 

Already he saw Galra soldiers engaging with his own, Asher and Vulpes fighting back-to-back with animalistic fury on their faces. Vivi and Hedwidge were nowhere to be seen, as were the rest of Altea’s researchers. Then he was nodding, and Keith was ramming himself into his own soldiers with a battle cry to counter even Xenomora’s.

 

“Traitor!” Shouted a Galra soldier as Keith sought an exit to his room, the last place he had seen the empath. He froze at the insult, however and left himself exposed to any attack. 

 

And indeed Galra attacked, lunging from all directions with their weapons in hand. Lance acted only on instinct at that point, spear slamming into growling and hissing soldiers. One by one they fell, some groaning on the floor from pain while others remained deathly silent. It mattered none to Lance, though. A traitor was a traitor, no matter how many tears they had shed together.

 

“You,” breathed Lance to the soldier still frozen in shock, “are the traitor here, to turn against your own commander.”

 

Then the soldier fell to his own commander’s blade with shock clear on his face, blade pierced through his chest before Lance could even position his spear properly. Looking at Keith with wide eyes, he found the Galra to be wearing a cold, indifferent face. “Keep going,” he said in a quiet voice that utterly betrayed the look he wore. So, with surprise clear in him, Lance obeyed and kept going until they found Nephele.

 

“Nephele!” Keith had shouted, shoving past the gradient of fleeing Alteans, the short empath wildly looking about in a panicked flurry. Lance barely had time to notice the short child before she was racing at Keith, and caught in a tight embrace.

 

“Keith! Oh, Cosmos, what’s happening?” She asked, hands pressed against his cheeks. Her third eye looked about, taking in everything Keith showed her. 

 

“I don’t know, Neph. But don’t let any of my soldiers touch you. If an Altean offers you shelter, take it,” He advised her, keeping a stoic expression solely for her reassurance. “We can’t trust any of our kind right now.”

 

“I understand. What of you?”

 

“We’re going to face the Galra fleet. Hopefully, it will buy Altea enough time to evacuate. I can’t say the same for the rest of the solar system.”

 

“Pokiaľ Noci, Keith. Do what is necessary, and feel no remorse for that,” Nephele said, bringing Keith back in for another hug.

 

“I will, Nephele. Stay safe. And if I die, remember that I have always adored you, okay?” Keith said that, entirely serious in a way that perplexed Lance. The battle outside of Altea had barely begun - how would he already be accepting death and loss? Immediately after he asked himself this, Lance was hit with the crushing realization that death followed Keith wherever he went.

 

He then decided that that night might just be when that changed for him.

 

“Okay.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Lance,” Alfor’s voice called in his ear a few dobashes later, “I need you and the Guard to - ”

 

“We’re already on it,” Lance said cooly. “Tell mama and Allura to avenge me if I die.”

 

“You’re not going to die,” sighed his father, “You’re far too talented to make such an error.”

 

“But far too reckless,” chirps Vivi in the comm. “Which we can all thank Keith for.”

 

“Thank you, Keith,” grumbles the guard in unison.

 

“You’re welcome, guys. Your Highness, please just tell them that so Lance doesn’t complain the entire battle or I might just turn on him yet,” Keith begged, his breathing heavy as he ducked under Altean fire, Lance shouting at them to stop trying to ‘kill his boyfriend, for cosmos’ sake, can you not listen to orders’?

 

“ . . . Alright. I will. But Keith . . . Are you really on our side?” Alfor asked, unsure and suspicious.

 

“I was always on your side, your majesty. From the very beginning.” And with that Alfor cut out, leaving Lance and Keith alone with the Guard’s comm, staring up at their ships. Keith turned to Lance and brought him in for a brief, passionate kiss. Lance’s hands rested on Keith’s elbows, then his waist, before the galra pulled away with a fierce look in his yellow eyes. This alone spoke volumes to Lance, solidified only by two words spoken in the only way Keith knew how to tell him. 

 

“Pokiaľ Noci.”

  
  
  
  
  


The fight between Altea’s guard and the Galra fleet had begun from the moment those confident in their flying abilities had broken the atmosphere. Keith had gotten the first kill with a Galra cruiser, driving himself to a lethally close distance before firing directly to the pilot’s seat.

 

“Love, you terrify me,” Lance only said as he sped past Keith’s massacre, flying himself up and over ships as he sought an opening. “And not in a good way this time.”

 

“Good,” grunted Keith as he fired at several other ships, only pausing for a split tick as Elyria zoomed overhead with a fury before resuming his carnage fueled by nothing other than rage.

 

“Someone get this one!” Shrieked Genevieve as she shot past Lance in a blur, time nearly slowing as the ship behind her began to fire.

 

“Pull up in two point one ticks!” Lance ordered. And three ticks past, Genevieve’s pursuer sent spiraling into oblivion from Lance’s shot. 

 

“Thanks, Lance!”

 

“Another battleship arrived!” Called Elyria.

 

“A planet has fallen in our outer solar system!” Coran’s voice shouted over the comm, desperate and breaking. With a quick glance to Coran’s miniature map, Lance confirmed that it was Regalia’s first moon, Eires. Junipo would be next if they followed a pattern of only seeking out inhabited planets.

 

“Lance, you need to do something!” Hissed the queen, her portrait appearing out of state. At her side was a bow, glowing in the night. Leave it to his mama to take matters into her own hands and bring hell to the Galra.

 

“I know, mama! I’m trying!” Responded Lance, desperately firing at ships as he spun in and out of danger, up and over his comrades. “Laxus, Genevieve, and Aenas! Fire at the battleship! Keith, get this damn cruiser that won’t leave Quille alone! Coran, where’s Allura?”

 

“Right here!” Called Allura from off of Coran’s portrait. She appeared behind him in a rush, holographs surrounding her. “Lance, there’s a ship trailing you!”

 

Immediately, Lance had spun his ship around and sent the pursuer to oblivion.

 

“Junipo is down!”

 

“What the shit! Go defend the rest of the solar system, guys! My Guard, Elyria, and Quille - remain here!”

 

“Right!”

 

“Lance, Keith, is Sheelo on our side?” Vivi’s voice rung from her comm, shouts and chaos all around her.

 

“I don’t know. Unless you see him strike down his own men, assume he isn’t,” Keith responded in the same quiet voice as before as he digs the nose of his ship into the side of a cruiser. “The same goes for Wyx and Ryl, Chrysthan.”

 

“I haven’t even encountered them,” responded the dull voice of Chrysthan. “But thanks for the heads up, I suppose.”

 

“Alright, thank you. Vulpes, have you seen Lileth? Hedwidge can’t find her.”

 

“No, I haven’t seen her since Asher sought her out this morning. Did you check the emergency evacuation camp?”

 

“Ah, shit, It’s too crowded there.”   
  


“She’s at the evac camp,” Allura called. “I’ll connect Hedwidge to her right now.”

 

“Guys!” Lance shouted, a cue for those on the other comm to silence themselves. “We have another battleship on our hands!”

 

“Castle of Lions preparing for battle!” Called out Coran, more to Alfor than the Guard.

 

“The first battleship won’t go down!”

 

“That’s because you’re aiming at the armor! Aim for the weaker spots on the ship just beyond the armor!” Keith ordered, his ship fast as a bullet as he tore apart speeders headed for Laxus.

 

“What the shit! Alfor, I want armor on my ship!” Cried Fiero.

 

“Focus on beating the threat, then we’ll talk about ship armor!” Shouted Alfor from Coran’s comm. All of this, however, was mere white noise to Lance. He heard nothing of what his comrades spoke over the roar of blood rushing to his head, a stupid plan forming in his head only made possible by being exposed to someone just as stupidly reckless as Lance.

 

Only Keith took notice of that plan, opening his mouth in protest a split tick too late as Lance forced his ship forward. Fast as light he soared, only going faster and faster until - 

 

Lance felt his ship impact with a weak spot on the battleship. His body lurched forward and dangled out of his seat only tethered by secured straps across his chest, only a temporary state before he was slammed backward. Of course, luck was seldom on his side in that moment, and Lance promptly hit his neck on the back of his seat. His temples pounded, and blood fell from his face to the controls below, flickering in and out of any sort of connection. Everything in Lance felt distant - as if he were experiencing his own deteriorating state from a second-hand perspective. The only thing he felt was his pain, digging into his body like a blade.  In right ear, he heard an unearthly scream come from what sounded like Allura and himself groaning. Then his ship window was being shattered by a familiar sword, his savior staring at him with a desperate look under his new helmet, given to him as a joke about how ‘hiding his face wouldn’t hide how short he was’ just last week. Keith struggled with the strap on his chest, brows furrowed and hands shaking.

 

And then Lance’s ship fell. 

 

He had no time to react, to grab on to Keith’s arm. Nor did he have the strength, his consciousness dancing in and out of his reach. Keith, however, did as he always did, and acted out of instinct. Claws dug into his skin desperately, grappling to skin left unprotected by his vambraces currently loose on his arms. Lance felt blood trickle from where Keith scrambled, grabbing and scratching until he had a firm grasp on his wrist, eyes still wide in terror.

 

And Lance recalled thinking that if he died, then and there, he would be unable to bear the look on Keith’s face being the last thing he saw.

 

So of course, that’s when Lance’s mind decided it was time to pass out for the first time.

 

 

 

 

 

☽ ♛ ☾

 

 

 

 

  
  
Keith couldn’t tell you what was going through his mind when he had decided to go after Lance, Altea’s resident idiot, or what drove him to do so. Maybe it was the way Allura screamed “no!”, sounding like her heart was being torn in half. Or maybe it was his own panic, worrying that he might yet lose another family member.

 

All he knew was that he had pulled Lance from his falling ship that was sucked out to the vacuum of space, with Keith fighting against the current until he sealed himself behind a door beyond the hole Lance created and fell to the floor with Lance held close to him.

 

“Keith! Are you alright?” Sarpedon called from a separate comm, loud as the blood rushing to his head as the film of his helmet faded to nothing, replaced by fresh air - or the closest one could get to it in space.

 

“We’re fine,” breathed Keith, his head hitting the back of the door, chest rising and falling. “Lance is injured, though. I’ll have to fight my way to the docking bay if I want to get him out of here safely.”

 

“You were a bad influence on him, commander,” Xenomora’s rumbling and serious voice said in a voice as small as Elyria.

 

“I know.”

 

“Keith, what are his injuries like?” Asked Hedwidge, her voice sounding as if she were in a rush and frantic as she spoke over Vivi.

 

“I don’t know. Bad. I accidentally tore up his arm trying to pull him up,” explained Keith, lifting Lance’s peaceful face with a gentle hand to examine the blood trailing down his face, and flinching away as the Altean groaned in pain. Then he was switching comms, listening as Vivi’s distant frantic conversation with the Guard, having immediately elected Fiero as Lance’s temporary replacement. “Coran, are the castle’s cryo-pods functioning?”

 

“Only two. If you get him here fast enough, we’ll be able to - ” Coran was swiftly cut off by an unintelligible murmur that no doubt belonged to Alfor. His cheery tone immediately shifted to something somber from whatever Alfor had said as he continued, “Just get to the docking bay as fast as possible.”

 

As his helmet was eased back over his face and Lance’s guard was once again replaced with his own comrades, Keith lifted Lance with a ginger touch, slinging his lover over his shoulder so he could unsheathe his sword and face the galra soldiers swiftly approaching him with blasters in hand and a prayer to every deity he had ever heard of.

 

“Xenomora,” Keith began as he cut down soldiers, “I need you to infiltrate the other battleship with Elyria and take out as many soldiers aboard it as possible. Sarpedon, continue killing those who sided with Zarkon from the inside and move on to the battleship when you’ve downed enough for Akmi and Hiro to manage on their own. But do not get caught.”

 

“You didn’t put me on your shit list for being slimy for no reason,” chirped the soldier, scratching behind his ear with a small sort of laugh.

 

“Should I tell Laxus that I'm going to scope out how many people are on the ship and leave?” Elyria asked, her portrait showing her already headed to the second battleship. Xenomora’s had her climbing into her ship with her weapons in hand.

 

“Yeah, that’s fi - Lance is waking up,” Keith said suddenly as he struck down a lone soldier, all of his comrades silencing themselves immediately.

 

“Keeeith,” drawled Lance, lifting his head slightly from Keith’s back, “I love youuu.” 

 

“Lance, you’re delirious.”

 

“Nah, just delirious for you.” And then, with that, Lance was back under. 

 

“ . . . That didn’t make much sense,” Hedwidge mumbled quietly to herself, brows furrowed in her tiny portrait. 

 

“And that, Hedwidge, is what we mean by Lance isn’t charming at all, no matter what Coran may say,” Vivi said from up ahead, voice distant.

  
  
  
  


Keith fought until he couldn’t fight anymore, struck down his fellow comrades until he was unable to carry his own sword, and ran until he was no longer able to despite the adrenaline coursing through him that urged him to continue until the fight was done - the soldier in him that Lance had fought so valiantly to kill. 

 

And Lance woke up two more times.

 

The first was when news had reached Keith’s Galra comrades - and Lance’s guard - that Wyx and Ryl had killed Chrysthan under the guise of being on his side.

 

Lance had seen how Keith was in a state of worry as he sat out in the open with Lance in his lap, his barely-conscious head rested on Keith’s shoulder. But he didn’t hear how Vivi screamed loud enough for Hedwidge’s comm to pick it up on an entirely separate comm, or how Fiero and Laxus let out rattling sobs; even how Genevieve was crying, apologizing all the while for not being there with him, and how even Xenomora and Sarpedon took out their rage in the only way they knew how - the faint screams drowned out by their low curses.

 

“Hey,” crooned Lance, pressing a hand to Keith’s blood-stained cheek, his cracking voice just loud enough for his helmet to pick it up, “Don’t be sad. We can all cry when the war’s won. Then everything can be happy again.”

 

“Keith, you have to - you have to tell him,” Said Laxus through his tears, “before he goes back under.”

 

“Crysthan’s gone, love,” Keith said, quiet and comforting. Lance only gave him a confused look, already seeming far away again.

 

“Then we’ll wait for him to come back,” Lance had said with distant certainty, pressing his head to the crook of Keith’s neck before it rolled back and his body went limp once more.

 

The second time Lance woke up was after Keith had forced himself to make it to the docking bay, only to have swiftly found himself surrounded. He heard soldiers with familiar voices that belonged to soldiers who were once his comrades in training, and some who once commanded him in a time where he hadn’t taken orders kindly. They told him that if he surrendered now, Zarkon might pity him enough to let him live. Keith had told them he’d rather die than listen to a madman.

 

He didn’t think they’d actually take him seriously and start firing, in all honesty.

 

“Okay,” Keith breathed as his head bolted back behind cover, the blasts that desperately sought his head having ceased. “There’s what - eighteen of them? And only one of me. So the best course of action . . .” He trailed off, going through every stupid plan his mind offered. One, leave Lance there, in the open to any wandering Galra, and take on the eighteen soldiers. Two, wait for Sarpedon to finish his task on Altea and ask him to instead assist him. And three, book it to the docking bay and lock their asses outside - all eighteen of them. All were easier said than done without jeopardizing either of their safety. But with one look to Lance and how he groaned in his sleeping state with pinched brows, Keith decided that his safety seldom mattered compared to the Altean bleeding out in his arms.

 

And with no regard for his own wellbeing, Keith sent himself hurtling down the hall with Lance in his arms and his blade precariously in his right hand. None of the soldiers had quite expected  _ that _ nor Keith having sent his blade flying through the air with a scream, and straight into a control panel. 

 

But, Nebulas be damned, their training hadn’t gone awry. As Keith slammed his hand against the control panel to close the bay doors, a few keen-eyed Galra had taken note of how Keith purposefully presented his back instead of his front (or jumping behind cover). So it was natural, to them, to fire directly at the visible target.

 

Keith felt pain burst across his back and sear through his armor now shattered across the rear side almost instantly, letting loose a scream loud enough to wake Lance. Through his undersuit, now torn where the blast had hit, he felt the itching of a searing burn. All he could do to remedy this injury that would no doubt vanish in some quality time in a cryo-pod, however, was slump against the cold metal door of the empty docking bay with a hiss of temporary relief. 

 

And so he sat, shaking and sobbing as the pain blossomed from its source to the rest of his body without an ounce of regret within him.

  
  
  
  
  


“Love, are we winning?” asked Lance the second time he had come to, reaching to scratch his bleeding arm before Keith slapped it away. He was far more attentive this time, even quirking a brow in confusion at a Hedwidge noticeably void of Vivi’s presence as she stood unaffected in the Castle of Lions and typing with vigor. Prior to Lance rousing himself back to the land of the living, Hedwidge had explained how Vivi had taken a blast to the ribs and had forced her to go on to assist the cause. Of course, even Keith would know that the researcher before them would no doubt return to save Vivi if anyone.

 

“I don’t know,” Keith answered honestly, holding Lance a little bit tighter as the communicator in his palm unfolded to a wider screen, showing how Blaytz had glanced from Alfor to the projection of Keith and Lance only once, his expression going from solemn to near-hysterics at the mere sight of Lance. He turned back to the red paladin at that, saying something passionate that made Alfor sigh and walk back to the wall of comm portraits.

 

“Hedwidge,” He said, sad eyes barely sparing Lance a glance, “Do you recall how you kept your Cryo-pods as a last minute plan?”

 

“Yes,” said the researcher in her flat voice, hair disheveled and clothes dirtied and stained with blood not belonging to herself.

 

“Well, we need that last minute plan. Go get Lance and Keith and rejoin Blaytz in the viewing deck. I’ll have him explain the plan. Keith, will you cooperate?” Alfor asked, quirking a brow at the bloodied Galra. Keith noted vaguely that Allura and Coran were now absent from the control deck, and had already begun to connect the dots between Alfor’s last minute plan and how Coran had forced Keith to hold off on bringing Lance to the castle.

 

“Of course he will,” snapped a Lance who was very much out of it now, “I wouldn’t love someone who couldn’t work with Blaytz.” Then he promptly passed out as if it were his closing statement.

 

Alfor gave a questioning look to Keith, waiting for him to answer for himself. “Lance explained it pretty well,” he only said, “I’ll cooperate with you through Blaytz. Anything for Lance.”

  
  
  
  
  


“We’re going to Apocrypha,” explained Hedwidge once the Blue Lion had opened a wormhole, “It’s located at one of the furthest reaches of the galaxy, and Alfor selected it should we ever have to hide the lions. My team and I were stationed there years ago to properly analyze the planet’s qualifications to properly conceal the lion.”

 

“And what does this have to do with us?” Keith asked, gesturing vaguely to Lance securely strapped in his lap. A watery planet came into view up ahead, the Blue lion diving deep into the depths of the water. Fish swam all around the lion, bizarrely shaped and extremely colorful.

 

“I created a new type of cryo-pod on Apocrypha’s research lab,” she said, fiddling with her hands, “But I was never able to get them functioning to the capacity that the castle’s cryo-pods are currently at. So Vivi prompted me to stop production for my sake as well as my team’s. I then informed Alfor that they would only be used in an emergency such as tonight. Blaytz, you may explain the rest.”

 

“Alright,” the blue paladin said, side-eyeing Keith as Blue approached a docking bay door. Hedwidge’s communicator burst to life behind Keith. “So the plan is to put Lance and yourself in the two highest-functioning cryo-pods in the research lab, which were basically the two that Trigel and Asher worked on when Hedwidge wasn’t looking. While you do that, I’m going to hide the Blue lion in the lowest portion of the docking bay. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll return to Apocrypha with Trigel and we’ll get you out.”

 

“And if it doesn’t go to plan?” Keith asked, warily eyeing 

 

“If it doesn’t, You’ll wake up when the next potential paladin enters the Castle of Lions and wakes up Allura and Coran. But the chances of that happening are slim to none,” Hedwidge answered easily, seeming far too confident in their chances to have made a backup plan. She unfastened herself from her seat, and assisted Blaytz and Keith with hauling Lance from the Blue lion before continuing, “Since we have extremely competent paladins as of now.”

 

Blaytz made no joking jab at her accidental flattering of him.

  
  
  
  
  


Hedwidge looked at home on Apocrypha. She looked like she  _ felt _ at home on Apocrypha. And yet she walked slowly through the halls, taking everything in one detail at a time as if it would be the last time she ever saw it. Keith took note of that, not just as something to remember, but as a little reminder that even Hedwidge, the woman most confident that they would make it out of this alive, looked at her research facility as if it were for the last time. Even at the infirmary, she took in everything from the error messages on every other cryo-pod she had left untouched for months, to the welcoming blue glow of two cryo-pods fixed when she had been too wrapped up in other research to notice. He wanted to reach out to her as she looked at her failures and tell her that she did something amazing, even if it didn’t go as well as she planned. Instead, he left her in her own little world and approached Blaytz who held Lance with a sad, fond look in his eyes.

 

“I’m so proud of him,” Blaytz said, Keith having thought it to be to himself before he looked up to Keith, “he did such amazing things and he hasn’t even lived his life to the fullest extent yet.”

 

“Yeah,” agreed Keith, watching as Blaytz brushed white hair from tan skin. “He’s always doing something amazing without noticing and did everything with a smile. That’s what draws everyone to him.”  _ It’s what drew me to him _ , He finds himself thinking.

 

“He loves you, you know,” Blaytz said, returning his fond smile back to a far-away Lance. “More than he ever loved anyone.”

 

“He told you that?” Keith asked in a small voice. Of course, the guard had made Keith painfully aware that Lance only fell in love three times his entire life. The first being one of the chef’s apprentices (he was always sneaking Lance desserts, even after the commander’s feelings had vanished), the second having been the first girl who ever reciprocated his feelings, and the third being Keith. Just knowing that he was above those two meant the world to him.

 

“Nah. But with him, you can tell just by looking at him and listening to him talk. This kid’s an easier book to read than you think.”

 

“Blaytz, are you ready?” Hedwidge asked, how attentive at the cryo-pod controls. She made no apology for interrupting their conversation, seemingly impatient.

 

“One tick, please,” the blue Paladin responded. As he said this, Lance’s eyes flickered open, not quite as attentive as the last. Keith knew Lance wouldn’t remember this when he woke up.

 

“Blaytz,” mumbled Lance, a shaking hand raising and pressing itself to his mentor’s cheek. Blaytz covered it with his own, giving him a weary, tear-filled smile.

 

“Hey, squirt. I’m gonna have to leave you, alright?”

 

“You’re gonna come back?”

 

“No, I don’t think so. But I want you to know that everything you’ve done and will do in your life has made me so,  _ so  _ proud. And if I don’t come back, know that you earned Blue’s love.”

 

“That’s good . . . I love Blue a ton. And I love you, Blaytz.”

 

“I love you too, buddy. As far as the night,” the blue paladin whispered, watching as Lance’s consciousness faded for what the two hoped to be the last time.

  
  
  


Keith could only watch as Blaytz put Lance into the cryo-pod, a hand he didn’t even know he was holding falling limply from him as Lance was put into stasis with a simple touch from Hedwidge. “Just in case,” she had muttered.

 

With that Blaytz had left to rejoin the battle on Altea, taking one of the last two speeders from the docking bay.

 

Almost immediately afterward, a quiet voice began to speak in his helmet comms.

 

“Keith,” the quiet voice said, breaking and sorrowful, “It’s Genevieve.”

 

“What is it?” Keith asked, side-eyeing Hedwidge.

 

“I’m so sorry, if I had gotten here sooner I would have been able to help and I’m just sorry and - ”

 

“Spit it out,” Keith ordered, unease settling in his stomach and taking root.

 

“Sheelo and Nephele are dead.” Genevieve was blunt, seeming just as shaken by the news than even Hedwidge.

 

And with those simple words, Keith’s entire world came crumbling down around him. “How?” He asked, barely hearing himself over his own pulse and nerves.

 

“Sheelo was protecting Nephele from Galra soldiers enraged that he would side with Altea. I managed to kill them, but . . .” Genevive trailed off, tears streaming down her face. Just as Keith had predicted upon their first meeting, she wouldn’t know what to do if her own friends had died. She was too empathetic. But who was Keith to judge?

 

“That’s enough. Thank you. Continue the fight. If not for my own orders, for their sake.”

 

With a nod, Genevieve vanished, and his comm folded back into itself.

 

And Keith let out the loudest, most gut-wrenching sob Hedwidge had ever heard. Collapsing to the floor he allowed himself to sob and scream, punching the floor until his knuckles bled. And he continued as such until Hedwidge’s hand was gently rested on his shoulder, silent all the while.

 

The empathetic look on her face was enough for Keith to steel himself.

 

Keith rose, pulling Lance’s staff discarded to the floor with him. Thrusting it into her hands, he gave her a fierce look filled with unfiltered fury. “Take this with you. If you want to go back to get Vivi, you need a weapon.”

 

Hedwidge nodded, serious and unreadable. She slung the spear over her back with ease, looking entirely like a leader of a rebellion with so many clashing factors to her.

 

“And . . . When I go under, leave this for Lance so he’ll know it was my intention, whether out of a fit of rage or just because I’m an idiot. Let him know that I’ll explain why I did that, but  _ how _ is up to your choosing.”

 

“I will.”

 

“And Hedwidge?” Keith asked, backing himself into his cryo-pod and unsheathing his sword. He stood, ready to pounce if he woke up to a battle still raging, as the Altean raised her shaking hands to his temples. She gave him a questioning look, hands an inch from him. “It was an honor being your friend.”

 

Then her fingers were gently pressed against his temples, the mystery that was Hedwidge vanishing for the ticks left in his consciousness as she spoke, sounding far away. Keith had never known what her loyalty was in the time they had grown close, other than dedicating herself entirely to Vivi and their research. But from her next words and the smiling, sorrowful look on her face, Keith saw every detail of the scientist as clear as day. “You made Lance and Vivi happier than they had ever been; the honor was, and always will be, mine.”

  
  
  


And so Keith succumbed to his fate, knowing not of the road that was laid before him ten thousand years in the future.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

☽ ♛ ☾

 

_ Extra-Pulsar _

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

“Vivi?” Hedwidge asked, her voice barely a whisper from where she laid, head on Vivi’s chest dyed crimson. Hands were entangled with one another, and tears long shared for their fate that came with the flames of Altea. Kylran and Genevieve sat a little ways away with Laxus propped up between them, arguing with Fiero and Sarpedon who insisted on coming to get them through a static-filled comm. They, just as the two lying in rubble and ashes, had accepted their fates long ago. But they couldn’t deny that it was rather reassuring to know that there was at least one person out there who hadn’t. “Why did you join Lance’s guard?” Hedwidge, of course, knew part of the answer. She was aware that Vivi had a mother who didn’t care about what fate she would be consumed by in Lance’s guard, and a father who was far too gone to support his daughter.

 

Vivi considered this for a long time, staring up at the smoke-filled sky filled with stars. Somewhere out there, she knew, was Lance and Keith, safe from harm and entirely unaware of how Blaytz and Alfor now lie dead with their comrades, loyal to one another - and Altea - till the end. Then, she told the entire truth in their final moments. “I wanted sanctuary from my mother’s expectations. And you can’t just say no to Lance.” Vivi laughed, a wheezing sound that rattled in her lungs. Hedwidge let out a weak giggle to join it, fiddling with Lance’s spear just beside the two. She felt immense regret about taking the spear from Keith a varga ago, knowing entirely well that Lance cherished it more than anything. But still, she kept that regret from her mind, always looking instead to joy so she may die happy. It was what she had promised Vivi, so long ago. That if the two of them were to face death at another’s hand, they would look it in the eye with a smile.

 

“I think . . . I think they’re going to avenge us,” Hedwidge said, coughing up a storm. Neither of them wiped away the blood this coughing fit left behind.

 

“Yeah. They’re gonna kill Zarkon and Honerva with their bare hands. Or Cosmos help me, I’m going to exact vengeance from beyond the grave.”

 

“Good.” Hedwidge wheezed, hatred in her dull eyes for the woman who used to have the privilege of being her inspiration. She had decided that her new idol before death would be Vivi, who had evacuated as many bystanders as she could and even helped Genevieve put Nephele and Sheelo to a better resting place in order to quell their regrets that they couldn’t live to see Keith one last time. Such a shame that they would be reduced to nothing but dust like the rest of those Keith and Lance held dear. Such a shame that Vivi couldn’t send a comm telling Lance that the guard would still be with him to the end, in whatever time he awoke in. Such a shame, indeed. “They’ll be the hope for rebellion. Maybe pilot some lions.”

 

“And then we’ll become gods among the stars,” Vivi said, raising her hand to the stars as a blast rained down from the sky, painfully bright to even look at. “Where you and I will be able to love each other for the rest of time.”

 

“Mmnn,” Hedwidge hummed, looking up to Vivi’s face and pressing a soft kiss to her markings on her jaw, “I’d like that.”

 

“Being gods?”

 

“No, my sweet. Being able to love you forever.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cover art for this chapter is on my Tumblr! Check it out!
> 
> https://hekaerge-athenias.tumblr.com/post/167424374309/hedwidge-looked-at-home-on-apocrypha-she-looked


	12. Ursa Minor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's fuckin do this, y'all  
> (link to the chapter art at the end please go like it I spent a week on it)

 

Lance feels cold air beat against his already freezing face, and tastes the ice on his tongue as he takes a deep breath. “I’m going to take the shot,” He says to no one in particular, speaking only to fill empty air. Glancing briefly from his spinning scopes, Lance sees ships in the distance headed straight for his vantage point. He knows entirely that they’re unaware of him being there at the moment; he’ll need to move fast to avoid any combat. Then his focus is devoted to the distant target, drawstring gingerly pulling back and an arrow forming - made of the same energy as the other paladins’ bayards - waiting to be shot. 

 

And then he fires.

 

He, of course, doesn’t need to watch his arrow soar and spark to know that he’s immaculately on target. Years spent with his guard and his mama’s gentle guidance made this certain. Instead, Lance stands, deathly still as he cocks his head to the side. He hears shouts confirming his kill, obviously. But hidden beneath that, he hears the other paladins of Voltron execute their own solitary tasks. A distant thud being Hunk, ramming down a locked door. A cackle to Pidge nearly drowned out from the howling wind. And Shiro, in the building just next to Lance, is the owner of an electric buzz he oh so distantly hears.

 

“Nice work, Lance. The team should be able to manage from here on out, so you can return to your lion,” Allura says in a calm and orderly voice. Shiro hums in agreement at her command on his end. She adds, “Just in case.”

 

Lance grunts in response, feeling a burst of energy soar through him, adrenaline coursing through his veins and taking hold of his mind. The ships overhead are near now, and he extends his mind further to the crooning and excited lion he was dearly attached to. Then, when the time is right, Lance finds himself throwing himself backwards off the side of his high point, bayard reverting back just in time for Blue to swallow him whole. He tumbles for a bit, back slamming into the cockpit and legs hanging low over his face. Letting out a laugh, he pulls himself up and leads himself to the pilot’s seat. “Thanks, Blue,” he says with a lopsided grin as he takes the controls from her and leads them far from the Galra settlement, a rumble leaving the lion. Lance checks the teams portraits’ for the third time this mission, expecting to see it empty once again. Instead, he finds himself gaping at a smiling Keith. “Hi,” he blurts, eyes still wide with the momentary shock.

 

“Hi.”

 

“They let you leave?”

 

“Something of that sort,” Keith says, scratching his neck and glancing over his shoulder as if something were to sneak up on him at any second. Red purrs, a reassuring sort of sound that leaves his paladin more at ease than before. “They’re more comfortable with the idea of seeing you, now that they’ve confirmed with their databases that I’m who I say I am. No, more than comfortable, they’re  _ eager _ . It’s rather terrifying.”

 

“Do you think they might be - ” Lance begins, cutting himself off as if they were being listened to at every second. Then, hesitantly, he continues, “ -  _ connected _ to your men?”

 

“Who can say, at this point. They’re not exactly willing to spill all of the organization’s past to me, no matter who I was and who I am now,” he says, hand dropping from his neck and to his lap. He gives a hesitant, hopeful look to Lance. “But maybe they’d be more willing with you?”

 

Lance’s brows furrow at Keith’s idea, fingers rapping on the armrests of the pilot’s seat for a dobash or two before he’s tapping his ear cuff with a fingernail, leaning on a hand as he watches Allura’s portrait unfold before him. “Allura!” He shouts to the distracted Altean, no hesitance within her as she spins to his portrait with a fury.

 

“What?!” She shouts back, seeming to be shouting only because Lance is shouting.

 

“The blades hideout opens today, right?”

 

“Wha- oh. Yes, it does. But you can’t miss the remainder of this mission. Something might go wrong and we won’t be able to defend ourselves and - ”

 

“Actually, we’ve got this under control,” Pidge’s smooth voice says, her portrait appearing with a smug sort of grin. She gives the ex-commander the same smug look, and is met with a nearly identical look. “Lance’s free to smash faces with his boyfriend as  _ much _ as he pleases.”

 

“ . . . Shiro?” Allura asks, seeming hopeful for some reason to ground Lance on this cold planet.

 

“Pidge’s right. We have control of the mission entirely.” Shiro’s portrait doesn’t appear, and Lance hears the buzzing electricity cut through the audio briefly. “Though I wouldn’t word it the same as she did.”

 

“But it’s true, and you know it!”

 

“It doesn’t mean we have to acknowledge it.”

 

“I’ve got no problem with anyone on the team acknowledging it, and neither does Keith.”

 

“Actually - ”

 

“ - And neither does Keith,” Lance repeats, glaring pointedly at the Galra raising his hands in silent surrender.

 

“Fine,” yields Allura once the comm had gone still. “But be quick. We won’t be able to form Voltron with  _ both _ of you missing.”

 

“Actually, you probably can,” pipes up Coran, his cheery face appearing in the corner of the screen. “Granted, it’s very difficult to achieve. Only the most skilled could pull it off, I assure you.”

 

“ . . . Anyway,” Allura says, giving Coran a strange look, “keep in contact with us. Anything you learn,  _ we _ learn.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Lance says, briefly nodding his farewells before terminating the call. He leans back in his seat, letting out a groan. Keith eyes him curiously.

 

“We’re not going to tell them  _ everything _ , aren’t we?”

 

“Duh. This is about  _ our _ pasts, not hers.” Setting Blue in motion, Lance barely sends Keith a glance as a wormhole opens above him. A strange look crosses his face that only Keith and Blue are witnesses to - something similar to a fierce determination crossed with some form of resentment. The source is unknown to the red paladin, and all too familiar with the blue lion. “She’ll find out when I feel like telling her.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I hate the Blades of Mamora,” Lance later complains, several days past. He sends his bayard flying across his room, nearly knocking down a dangling sap of green amber in the process. Then Lance throws himself after the bayard, landing ungracefully on his bed. Keith remains just beyond the doorframe all the while, his arms folded and a vaguely amused smile worn. “And how much they kept a secret from me. Like, is it too much to ask who the quiznak formed their damned organization?”

 

“Well, your sister  _ does _ mistrust them a great deal. They must’ve thought the apple couldn’t fall far from the tree.”

 

“Then they  _ clearly _ haven’t seen the two of us at the same time. If whoever formed the Blades was one of our men, it’s our right to - ”

 

“Lance! Keith!” Chirps Hunk, all but knocking Keith to the ground as he bursts through the door. He apologizes briefly, setting the red paladin straight with a gentle pat on the head. “You’re back!”

 

“See,” says a deadpanned Pidge, “I told you they weren’t getting down and dirty yet.”

 

“Lance’s too busy complaining for that,” Keith explains simply, distancing himself from the two paladins and gravitating closer to a still groaning Lance. He prods him with a foot. “Isn’t that right?”

 

The altean only groans in response.

 

“Okay, okay, stop groaning,” Hunk says, forcing a limp Lance to sit up, “we’re here for the details.”

 

“Allura sent you, didn’t she?” asks Keith.

 

“Nope. She’s trying to send Shiro right now, though. So by us being here, you’ve agreed to break the ceiling to escape him need be,” Pidge says, plopping herself on the bed behind Lance. “ _ We _ just wanna know what’s up.”

 

“Nothing. That’s the problem,” says Lance, his drooping head lifting up and groaning ceasing. Hunk takes this as an initiative to sit down, leaving Keith the only one of the group standing, because why wouldn’t he. “The only info I got was that the Blades have a database of everyone who fought in the war when Altea fell, and whose side they were on - without being allowed access to said database, mind you - that the founders of the Blades were  _ alive _ during the war, and that some Blade named Ev has a poster of Keith and me in her room.”

 

“Aw, you guys have a fan! That’s so adorable!”

 

“It was . . . interesting,” Keith adds, making a disgusted face “Apparently it was a poster that some Galra survivor from the war kept mass producing until his death to try and spark a rebellion. It’s the only way  _ anyone _ could have managed to print propaganda with my face on it.”

 

“Yo, yo, hold the phone - the Blade’s got a  _ database _ ? Is it online or physical?” Pidge says, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

 

“Physical,” Keith and Lance say in unison.

 

“Damn. Okay, I think I can get around it somehow - ”

 

“There’s no need to,” Keith interrupts, the vaguely amused smile once again across his lips.

 

“Why?” asks the trio in unison. Lance rubs a hand across his right arm, hopeful all the while in a way that makes all regrets within the standing paladin vanish in a split tick.

 

Keith only responds by pulling a small chip from his collar, eyes sparkling with a mischief.

 

“Is that - Keith what the fuck -  _ how _ ?” Lance asks, his face going through different variations of shock as he gapes at the smug man before him, before settling on one of awe.

 

“Simple,” he says, “you learn to steal for yourself in a Galra environment.”

 

“That’s not simple at all you glorious bastard; I’m a pampered prince that had my life handed to me,” snaps Lance, all the while covering Keith’s face with peppered kisses. “I only know the  _ basics  _ of how to steal because of Viv.”

 

“Cosmos bless Vivi,” says Keith to no one in particular, peacefully oblivious to Pidge’s gagging, “for teaching this insufferable son of a klanmurl the art of pickpocketing.”

 

“Alright! I’m calling no PDA for the next . . . ten minutes!” shrieks the tiny paladin, throwing Lance’s pillow at the two with a disgusted look on her face. 

 

“But  _ Piiiiidge _ ,” whines Lance.

 

“No buts! I know you want to go over this registry and I’ll be damned if I don’t fucking make you do it! Hunk! Hit the lights, you wonderful person!”

 

Lance doesn’t know what to really expect when he first goes into it. Maybe he hopes that some of them may be alive - though long dead by now, it would give him some sort of comfort to know they lived a life after the war. Vivi is listed as deceased alongside Hedwidge (they were listed as married on the registry; the one request of Vivi should she die in the presence of the Guard), Genevieve, Laxus, and Kylran as some of the few with a written cause of death - the obliteration of Altea. The only others with listed causes of death are limited. Alfor as being killed by Zarkon, the paladins and the queen having gone down fighting, and Chrysthan . . . having been betrayed by Wyx and Ryl. Keith tells him that he had told him of Chrysthan’s death being the first of Altea’s guard the moment it happened. Lance tells him that he doesn’t remember it, a tortured look trapped in his visage.

 

And then Lance finds the survivors from Altea’s side. 

 

Akmi, Hiro, Xenomora, Quille, and Elyria are all listed as alive at the time, their dates of death ignored completely by the two ex-commanders. Then, hesitantly, the four force themselves to take in the last two survivors on the list, two people Hunk and Pidge had been made aware of previously via a rambling Lance.

 

Sarpedon and Fiero. Alive. And listed as one, instead of being given their own row.

 

Only then does the impact of the registry reach Lance as he breaks into hysterics, shaking and sobbing by the end of it with one hand clasped over his mouth, the other gripping his scarred arm as if it would offer comfort. He doesn’t know why, exactly, he’s crying. He should be happy that at least they survived. He should be happy that they had a chance to be happy until their deaths. But Lance just feels . . . nothing.

 

Keith, however, knows the source of the empty feeling settling in the pit of his stomach and the weight upon his shoulders. A guilt nurses itself in the two, knowing that only a small handful of soldiers out of  _ hundreds _ survived. All because they hadn’t remained and fought, like Lance would have done had he not been so early out of action. A part of Keith knew that doing so would have only resulted in their own demises and a  _ very _ vengeful Allura and Coran.

 

In the end, Keith ends up shooing away Hunk and Pidge, leaving the registry abandoned to the floor with their own statuses glaring painfully up at them.

 

“It’s alright to cry,” Keith says in a hushed voice, scooting himself further in Lance’s bed, until he feels his back hit a solid surface. He continues with fragments of reassurances he can muster, “We have time. We did all we could have done. It’s alright to cry.”

 

Lance sniffles. He wipes his nose on an immaculate sleeve, giving Keith a single order in doing so. 

 

“Tell me something happy.”

 

Keith hesitates. To Lance, the happiest memories of Keith are rarer than the highest of luxuries - a gift given once in many decaphoebs. But every sorrowful moment, every regret,  _ that _ is a commonplace between the two. This isn’t because of either’s own fault, of course. It’s just that he finds a happy memory in his time before meeting Lance scarce. 

 

Then he speaks.

 

“Long ago, before I met you, my mom had taken me to her base for a tour,” He says, painting a picture for only Lance to bear witness to. 

 

“Introduced me to all of her squadron members, told me how they earned their stripes of honor. Apparently, the smallest of them got hers from taking control of a hijacked ship headed for a recently colonized planet and drove it straight into the commanding ship of the enemy, ejecting herself at just the precise moment. Which was puzzling to me, because she didn’t seem threatening enough to have done such. But this soldier, Treya, I think her name was, got down to my level, looked me in the eye and told me that it was her strategy. To confuse the soldiers before they knew what to expect. So immediately I was fucking sold, already patented the idea to the community of Keith’s stupid ideas before my mom could tell her to not imprint that on me.” Lance shifts, sending Keith into a brief silence as he watches a shaky hand take his, Lance huddling closer to him as if he would vanish at any given second.

 

Keith hesitates for a tick, watching with a weary eye to ensure Lance to be done before he continues, “But because of Treya, I was able to rise above my rank as a private far before the rest of my trainee group, able to listen in on the gossip of how the idiot Altean prince declared himself captain of Altea’s new guard alongside some ragtag group of kids without being caught, and able to end up being stuck working  _ alongside _ said idiot prince, who was cocky enough to think himself able to beat me at that point not because of my height like I assumed, but because of how stubborn I was. And you know what?”

 

“What?” Lance sniffles violently.

 

“I would go to the ends of the universe to thank Treya. Because she inadvertently brought me to you.”

“Awww,” coos Lance, still sniffling with a passion as he prods Keith’s chest, “that’s like every romance novel I’ve ever had the misfortune of reading.”

 

“But you’re not crying anymore,” says Keith.

 

“But I’m not crying anymore,” repeats Lance, his smile hesitant. 

 

His smile genuine. 

 

His smile at temporary peace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Keith! Keep going! We’ve got your six!” Lance hears Pidge shout somewhere behind him, blasts raining down on their shields from all directions. Behind the blockade of paladins and shields, he hears Keith grunt, the sound of blade against blade drowned out by the sounds of battle. 

 

“Hunk!” Shiro shouts, the yellow paladin breaking formation on command, bayard poised like a battering ram. Releasing a scream, he charges at the cluster of enemies. Now distracted by their terrifying yellow doom, Shiro and Pidge charge from above, launching themselves off of Lance’s shield without any need of communicating the plan. 

 

“Love!” Lance shouts over his shoulder, catching a flick of Galra movement out of the corner of his eye as he tightly clasps the hilt of his dagger. Immediately he sends the blade flying, hearing the dagger hit its mark with a shocked scream escaping his target. In his left hand, he feels his bow take form from his blaster.

 

“Thanks!” He hears Keith call, sounding entirely too happy to be able to dual wield. 

 

“Anytime, sweet cheeks!” Lance chirps, happy to know that his comrade in arms is happy to stab two people for the price of one. Then Lance takes off running, seamlessly fusing into the fray with his fellow paladins. 

 

“Why the actual hell are you using your bow in close combat?” Is the first thing Pidge screeches over the battle upon seeing the blue paladin. Lance exhibits his reasoning by promptly jabbing a Galra in the face, spinning his bow about in both hands and knocking his opponent to the ground. He deadpans Pidge all the while, refusing to break eye contact even as his bow shifts to a blaster and fires at the Galran’s head. “ . . . Alright, carry on, dude.”

 

“We need to follow Keith,” Shiro says into the comms a few ticks later, Lance feeling shoulders and backs press up against his. “God knows he’ll take on the entire base himself.”

 

“If he can do it once, he’ll do it again,” Lance grimly says. Hunk gives him a worried look out of the corner of his eye, met with no reassuring smile.

 

“Ugh - love, how, in the name of all things holy do you - remember that?” Keith says from the other line, the distant sound of sentries falling and Galra soldiers screaming like music to Lance’s ears.

 

“I don’t. Well, not clearly. But I know you well enough.”

 

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” insists Keith, and Lance can hear him release a shaking breath as he switches blades, hearing the metal hit blasters. Frustration rises in his voice, something rare since the two had gotten together. As if realizing his error, he takes a deep breath and cooperates himself before continuing, “Just get Pidge to the motherboard while the base is focused on me.”

 

“ _ Keith _ ,” Allura sharply barks, able to see Keith slipping apart and losing himself before Lance can hear it.

 

“Shut up!” Keith hisses. Then he’s silent, and Lance can almost imagine him stopping in one of the many empty halls, shoulders going slack and head cast downwards. “Sorry - sorry. I’m sorry.” He exhales deeply. “I didn’t mean to - ”

 

“Allura, what did he do?” Lance asks, suspicion rising in the pit of his stomach. He aims his blaster at a sentry kneeling down for a fallen Galra soldier, its chest blown wide open. Before he can shoot, however, Pidge’s bayard wraps itself around the sentry’s leg and throws it to the other wall.

 

“It’s not my place to - ” the princess begins, delicate in her wording. Keith, in contrast, is harsh and terrified all the same in a way that has Lance’s core frozen in worry.

 

“I’ll tell you later. Just focus on the mission, alright?”

 

Lance doesn’t respond.

 

“Come on, team,” Shiro urges gently as they finally pass the fallen Galra spitting curses only Lance can understand, “we’ll be in and out in no time.”

 

“Good,” Hunk says, cracking his hands as his bayard shifts back to it’s lighter form, “I can’t  _ wait _ to see Pidge kick Lance’s ass in the art of video gaming.”

 

“Just because I’m not from your planet and don’t know your technology doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass to the Nebulas and back,” Lance says, a cocky grin on his face.

 

“I’ll kick your asshole so far into yourself that you’ll be in a damn cryo-pod for  _ weeks _ ,” threatens Pidge, earning a scandalized reprehension from Shiro that only makes her smug look further so. 

 

It is only fitting that at before Lance could slyly retort Keith declares Voltron to be needed, his portion of the mission completed and small form a purple and red blur as he catches up with the group, headed for the direction they just came from. A crash in the distance is all the confirmation Shiro needs to be racing after Keith, Lance close on his toes with an ungodly scream and a Pidge atop Hunk’s shoulders charging beside him.

 

“Keith, what the hell!” Lance screeches as he scrambles up a small building, daring not to look behind him to see what follows. Hunk and Pidge charge on the ground, Shiro having scaled another building and faded in the distance. The Galra’s only response is to throw Lance’s dagger in his general direction, caught quickly as he struggles to chase after him. In the distance, they hear the united roar of their lions, blue and red specks in the distance paired with the rest of Voltron. “You had one job!”

 

“How was I supposed to know there’d be a robeast here?”

 

“You  _ don’t  _ run directly into danger, first!” Cries Lance, Blue only a few feet in front of him now. Stepping into her opened mouth, he strides up to the cockpit still carrying a conversation with Keith. “And second, wait for us in case you decide to do exactly that! We’re the closest thing you have to impulse control at this point!”

 

“I don’t need impulse control,” mutters Keith.

 

“Yes, you do,” Shiro responds, his portrait appearing alongside the rest of Voltron. He glances to Keith, face steadily faced ahead. “You would get into a fistfight with Zarkon himself if you had the chance.”

 

“He’d have it coming.”

 

“See? Even Lance’s impulse control is better.”

 

“And I’ve flown into a Galra base twice!” Lance exclaims, raising two fingers as if it wasn’t simple enough to explain. 

 

“ . . . You  _ what _ ?” Keith asks, giving Lance an infuriated look that has him freezing altogether, Blue taking the reins from him promptly.

 

“Oh, shit. Did I not tell you about that?”

 

“ _ No. _ You  _ didn’t _ ,” Keith growls, quirking a brow at Shiro’s portrait with a deathly stare.

 

“Don’t look at me,” says the black paladin, “I didn’t know that he had a self-sacrificial complex to this level.”

 

“TLDR: Lance drove Blue into a Galra base to retrieve Red,” Pidge translates. “And nearly took Shiro and me out with him.”

 

“Which, by the way, is in the past,” adds Hunk with a nervous smile, “we’re all here and safe, which won’t last long if we don’t form Voltron soon!”

 

“Hunk’s right,” Lance says with a sigh of relief, thanking the Cosmos for this blessed human that absolutely hates arguments. Keith, still somewhat frustrated with Lance for reasons to discuss later, begrudgingly quells his anger for the sake of kicking a robeast’s ass. “We gotta act fast. Care to do the honors, Shiro?”

"Of course I would. Paladins - form Voltron!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  


On Keith’s first day as a Red paladin, Lance had the worst panic attack he’s experienced since waking up. He can’t quite remember the cause, just that Keith and he were walking through the halls carrying a quiet conversation. But what he does remember is being seized by a panic of finding his mother, to keep her safe. He remembers every emotion he was void of during the battle catching up to him in one crashing panic. The next thing he recalls is waking up in his bed, Keith seated beside him with Allura’s hand resting against his forehead, Coran just beside him with the rest of the paladins. He recalls everything seeming too bright and too colorful than what he expects.

 

He hadn’t experienced such since, and it entirely faded from his mind.

 

Until Keith experienced something similar, in the cockpit of Red nonetheless. Lance had been the first to react when he saw the Galra go limp, his hands falling from the steering wheel. By then the thought hadn’t occurred to Lance, his only thoughts being to get to Keith fast. With Voltron splitting immediately, Blue sent a rumbling call to Red for him to follow her, and Lance sent her soaring towards the castle without any acknowledgment to his paladins.

 

“He has no injuries,” he is later reporting to Allura as she goes through a year’s worth of reports on Hedwidge and Raylond’s notes on Galra functions, “and his pulse is fine. Skipping, every once in awhile, but fine.”

 

“Dehydration?” Pidge suggests from where she’s perched, helpless and unable to read the Altean reports.

 

“He may be thirsty, but hydration is no issue,” Allura says in a low voice, oblivious to her own joke that has Pidge and Hunk stifling exhausted laughter.

 

“Lack of sleep?” Shiro quirks a brow at Lance, the question not at all directed to Allura.

 

“We sleep in the same room,” he confirms, “I would know if he didn’t sleep at night.” He neglects to inform their leader that the nights Keith  _ doesn’t _ sleep, neither does Lance.

 

“Lance is a light sleeper,” Allura murmurs, more to herself. With a frustrated groan, she closes all reports with both hands slamming outwards. “Nothing. Whatever this is, it’s solely Keith’s problem. No other Galra soldier was noted having this problem - even Sheelo.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Not you, Shiro,” Lance quickly interjects, having to hide his own surprise that he hadn’t considered this mixup to happen at some point. “Keith had a . . . brother of sorts. He was higher in command, and tasked to oversee our progress after a couple of months of training. Dude was a legend even to my Guard. You have similar names, that’s all.” He feels himself shrinking into himself at the realization that he had swiftly revealed one of the treasured secrets of the four living survivors of Altea’s war- and one of the most taboo.

 

“Oh. Sorry, but was he on . . . ?” Shiro trails off, seeing if he had overstepped some boundary. If he had been speaking with Keith, that would almost be certain. Even Lance fears he treads on thin ice when speaking of Keith’s family.

 

“No.” Lance looks down at Keith’s pinched expression, not at all at peace in . . . whatever state he’s in. He presses a hand to his cheek to turn his face to the side, feeling the scarce fur trailing down the side of his face, contrasted by the smooth canvas that is the rest of his face. “He died protecting those he loved and Altea, and was ultimately disgraced alongside Keith, my own  _ friends _ , and myself as examples of what would happen if the Galra under Zarkon didn’t go quietly into the night.”

 

“Lance, let go of the table before you break it,” Allura warns without looking up from her new barrage of reports. Coran quietly navigates her through the mess that is Hedwidge’s own studies on the Galra, giving occasional commentary of what had happened on the days of certain reports. Immediately Lance throws his hands in the air, and nonchalantly turns to the paladins with tired eyes.

 

“Don’t mention any of that around Keith because he’ll kill me,” he orders in a low voice, hands still raised and head tilted upwards. He sees Shiro glance at his forearm revealed by rolled up sleeves and cringe, but say nothing. “But don’t forget any of it all the same.”

 

“Alright, damn, that got unnecessarily intense,” Pidge says, looking a little bit taken aback. “We’ll take your advice.”

 

“I’m a very intense person,” Lance assures them.

 

“You are  _ not _ ,” adds Allura, “we’ve all seen you and Keith.”

 

“Hey, Als? shut the  _ fuck _ up or get your training staff,” bites Lance.

 

“Lance, do not fight the princess,” chides Coran with bright amusement. 

 

“But  _ Coran _ ! She’s insulting my dignity!”

 

“Dude, I’d hate to admit it,” Hunk pipes up, “but you lost your dignity in our eyes long ago.”

 

“What? When?!” Cries Lance, almost throwing himself across the room.

 

“I seem to recall us finding you and Keith having a moment in the training room,” Pidge muses with a knowing look.

 

“Okay, fair, but you  _ knew _ we were in there! I’m sure even Allura warned you!”

 

“I didn’t. Let them see what I had to deal with for themselves.”

 

“Coran?”

 

“Tradition, my boy. The old staff of the castle and I had to go through the same with your parents.”

 

“What the quiznak! Shiro, dude, please tell me you don’t encourage this invasion of privacy.”

 

“I don’t,” Shiro says evenly, met with a ‘thank you’ from Lance, “I could have gone my entire life without having to see or hear any of that.”

 

“Alright,” announces Pidge after she decides that the conversation isn’t anywhere near beneficial to her (which, according to Hunk, was blackmail, which wasn’t classified as being caught flirting and acting romantic with your lover to Alteans), hopping from her perch, “I’m leaving. Someone tell me the story me on what happens when ye old Edgelord over there wakes up.”

 

“Oh, she’s gonna get a fucking  _ story _ , alright,” says Lance absently after Pidge leaves, offering no further explanation, leaving Hunk and Shiro stuck in a confusing wonder of what the hell this ‘story’ would be.

 

And then, thirty dobashes later, Keith wakes up with an ungodly scream and pins Lance to the ground, dagger in hand. Growling and baring his teeth, Shiro and Allura already position themselves to pull Keith away at any given moment. But Lance remains calm nevertheless, prompting them to stay at bay.

 

“Gorgeous, I know many people are gifted with you being the last thing they ever see, but please don’t make me one of them,” Lance says smoothly and quickly, watching how Keith’s face softens at the sound of his voice and then the terror that takes its place, the Galra scrambling away.

 

“Shit - sorry, love - I didn’t mean - I just - ” Keith is saying, stumbling over all of his words. He’s frightened, shrunken into a shell where everything seems temporarily unfamiliar. Still, Lance vaguely smiles at him in amusement, and dusts off his pants with both hands. 

 

“It’s fine. Allura, stop researching before you start crying,” Lance orders, the princess scowling at him, though obeying nevertheless.

 

“I’m . . . going to go make some food,” Hunk says, gravitating to the door with Shiro.

 

“I’ll go with him,” says the black paladin, seemingly uncomfortable about the situation in ways that are worlds different than the yellow paladin. Like he knew something.

 

“Come on,” Lance urges, tugging Keith behind him as he marches from the infirmary to the viewing deck. “It’s time to do your  _ favorite _ thing in the universe- ”

 

“ - Oh, cosmos - ”

 

“ - And talk about the past.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Keith remains silent for a while once seated on the viewing deck, staring blankly out at the stars. He leans against Lance for some form of comfort, his claws digging into his arms as if it would offer release from how tight his throat feels, distract Lance from how  _ terrified _ he looks, wide eyes, shaking body and all.

 

Then, hesitantly, he speaks.

 

“I wanted to fight again. I felt like I  _ needed _ to fight.” Keith takes a deep breath. “For me - for us - to survive,” he clarifies. “I felt like I was on that goddamn ship again, and the last thing I remember is wanting it to stop.”

 

“And just now?” Lance gently prompts, resting a hand on one of Keith’s, steadying it with a firm yet gentle grasp. Though, he can take a guess as to what happened. If Lance, someone who had been delirious at the time he was put into stasis, could wake up with a sense of predatory defense in his veins, then so could Keith. He shakes his head, yellow eyes glancing briefly at him before focusing on his feet. 

 

“Same mindset as then. I was so pissed that I saw you and immediately mistook you as a Galra enemy and acted. Sorry.” Keith looks up, giving a weak smile.

 

“Don’t apologize. I do the same thing.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Yeah.” Lance laughs, a shaking, strangled sound that barely passes as a pathetic attempt of lightening what pertains to his words. “Did the same thing you did to Coran twice, Allura once, and Hunk three times.”

 

Keith’s brows furrow. He rubs his thumb over Lance’s smooth hand, over and over in a repetitive half circle, before meeting the Altean’s blue gaze and devoting himself to them entirely. “I was throwing myself into danger, earlier. I think I was thinking that I could get this over with sooner, and you would be safe sooner and you wouldn’t question why I was doing what I was doing.”

 

“I don’t know how to respond to that.”

 

“You don’t. Just . . . hold me, please.” A simple request, which is fulfilled easily

 

“And train with you after?” Lance suggests, pressing his lips into the crook of Keith’s neck.

 

“You bet. Maybe this time you can win.”

 

“Not everything’s a competition, love.”

 

“Mhm.” Keith shifts against Lance, hair brushing against his nose, “but we enjoy training more when we have something to prove.”

 

“Like how you’re defenseless without your knives?”

 

“Or how  _ you’re _ defenseless without any of your weapons?”

 

“Oh, it is  _ so _ on now, babe.”

 

And it was, in fact, so on. Lance gives everything he had to the sparring, eventually giving up and using his relationship with Keith to his advantage. Flirting relentlessly with him until Keith gives in, his guard lowers momentarily, giving Lance the perfect opening to send his lover crashing to the ground.

 

“You cheated,” groans Keith.

 

“I did not,” Lance assures him, laying down beside him in the middle of the training deck. “I aimed for your ankles. Which is like, one of the first things I taught you when we met.”

 

“ _ Lance _ .”

 

“Flirting isn’t cheating either.”

 

“Yes, it is! You know I’m the only person in the galaxy those stupid damn pickup lines work on!” Keith cries, much to Lance’s snickering.

 

“Uh, excuse you, they definitely work on everyone.  _ Especially _ you.”

 

“Mhm. Keep convincing yourself that.” Keith hums, flicking Lance’s markings before sitting himself up.

 

“You know what? I  _ will _ . Thanks, love. Couldn’t do it without you.”

 

“You’re  _ so _ welcome. Now, get up, Allura and Coran are on the viewing deck giving me the stink eye. Get your bayard, too. I have to kick your ass.”

 

“What? Why?” Lance aks, obeying nonetheless and rising to his feet with bayard in hand.

 

“Because you’re an idiot that can’t get his fill of literally throwing himself into danger,” Keith says lightly, his anger from before replaced more with a competitive urge to beat Lance into a pulp. 

 

“That’s reasonable. Don’t destroy me, though. I’d prefer to be able to look Allura in the eye after this,” Lance says, glancing up at the two Alteans standing in the window. Keith laughs, backing himself away from Lance with a wink.

 

“Can’t promise anything, love.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
  
Lance always finds himself drifting to the past. He can’t explain  _ why _ , exactly, just that he does. It’s not always recalling fond memories with Coran and Allura when they have the time, no, but often going through the photos on his communicator photographing his entire journey as a prince-made-general. Before every mission, he looks through a few pictures. But today, Lance finds a photo of his Guard, when they had just gotten their armor. Lance is grinning to his ears, Blaytz and Alfor on either side of him with the previous Blue paladin ruffling the smaller Altean’s white hair. Fiero is just in beside Lance with Vivi in a chokehold, Genevieve crouching in the back in order to be visible. Chrysthan offers a ghost of a smile, entirely outshone by Laxus’ charming grin. Hedwidge stands just at the edge of the photo, smiling faintly, her brand-new researchers coat reminding him that on the same day the Guard began training, Hedwidge and Asher had begun their apprenticeships. He can almost hear Fiero's teasing, Vivi's barking laughter, and Laxus' comment on how he could get used to this. Lance feels happiness and sorrow settle in the pit of his stomach at how  _ proud _ all of them were.

 

But these traces of joy and pride doesn’t erase their fates, nor the fact that this photo is a ghost of a part of Lance he’ll never get back. A Lance that had his family and woke up every morning and went to sleep every night with a smile that weighs over him now in a shroud of darkness.

 

“Yo! Lance!” Pidge calls, shaking him from his trance momentarily. She stands with a hand on her hip, head cocked to the side and green helmet beneath her arm. Hunk gives him a questioning look as well, Shiro quirking a brow at someone over Lance’s shoulder. “C’mon, dude! We don’t have all day!”

 

A part of Lance that he stubbornly holds on to - despite it remaining entirely in the past with nothing tethered to the Lance of now.

 

Keith flicks the side of Lance’s face as a greeting. He lets out a barking laugh through fanged teeth at how he cries out in pain and playfully slugs his shoulder, complaining of how his beauty was ruined. “You ready to head out, love?” he asks, expectant. He only spares one glance to the photo on his communicator, expression not at all faltering. Even Allura and Coran, coming up behind Lance from his left, make no sort of sad or reminiscent expression upon seeing the photo.

 

And so, Lance decides to leave the past behind him. To let go. Leave it all forever in the parts of nights he’ll spend reassuring himself and a shaking Keith that they were fine now, and they will be fine later - leave it all on Apocrypha and the rubble of Altea where all of their secrets shall lie in safekeeping for all of time.

 

_ “Go,” _ a voice of Lance’s past seems to urge inside of him. Whether it’s Hedwidge’s imprint on Apocrypha, whatever lingers of Blaytz within blue, or the remnants of his Guard - Lance can’t tell. But unlike the last time he thought he could hear a voice urging in him, it took on a new tone very unlike the one of vengeance he felt before. It seems . . . proud. 

 

_ “Be happy.” _

 

With one glance to his communicator before it returns to its compartment, he turns his head to Keith with a loving sort of smile, hand lingering on the small of his back. He can feel the shift in the texture of the scarred skin beneath the suit, and feels a tingle in his lips from a memory of kissing that scar at night. Allura smiles vaguely at the two, a fond sort of thing that’s mellow compared to Coran’s boisterous grin, happy that ‘his kids’ are happy, too. “Always.”

 

Lance breathes in.

 

Lance breathes out.

 

And with that breath, he becomes reborn, taking a step forward into a new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, It's the end. It's been a long journey with you all and I am so thankful for your support and comments. They really do keep me going, in ways you might not understand. So thank you, for taking the time out of your days to read my uploads. It really meant a lot. All of your little ideas and guesses really helped me develop a plot!
> 
> And, one little detail I just HAVE to share because I love it so much; when Lance refers to his 'family', he's almost always talking about his immediate guard (like Vivi and Fiero)!
> 
> Finally tho, I wanna thank my beta reader @yuge_no . You helped me through this from the beginning even when you were busy. You the realest bb <3
> 
> A link to the Ursa Minor artwork for this chapter (It has Lance's guard in it!!!)  
> https://hekaerge-athenias.tumblr.com/post/168343601114/no-lance-looks-down-he-died-protecting-those

**Author's Note:**

> Dark Matter is used in describing matter that cannot be seen but detected by its gravitational effects on other bodies.


End file.
